Which Happens Somewhere in the Middle
by theredrobin
Summary: Happily ever after never counted on the likes of Howl and Sophie.
1. In Which it Storms

Author's Notes

Just a sort of filling-in-the-gap between _Howl's Moving Castle _and _Castle in the Air_.

* * *

**Chapter 1, In Which it Storms Both Inside and Outside the Moving Castle**

* * *

Sunlight streamed through the window, golden and warm.

Tendrils of its glow spilled lazily over Howl and Sophie's closed eyelids, both breathing gently while they still lay enveloped in sleep. Howl's arms were circled around his wife's waist while Sophie's cheek rested on his chest, right above his heart—the heart she had returned to him almost a year ago.

Her head tilted and her mane of red-gold hair brushed against Howl's stomach as she did, lightly tickling his bare skin and causing him to stir. He blearily opened his eyes and immediately squinted as the sun glared into them. Tightly squeezing his eyes shut again, he made a twirling motion in the air with one hand and the curtains hanging on either side of the window came together to block out the light.

That accomplished, he pulled Sophie closer before he fell back asleep.

/\/\/\/\/\

"Howl!"

Sophie's voice penetrated through to his subconscious, and although his head was buried under his pillow, he registered that he was in trouble.

There were thuds and clatters of her tearing around the room. Suddenly, he found the pillow he had been hiding under snatched away and replaced with Sophie's face, centimeters from his own.

"Howl," she repeated with a scowl, "you knew I had to meet Lettie and Martha this morning, but you closed the curtains and I thought it was earlier than it actually is. I was supposed to be at Ben's two hours ago!"

"I was tired," Howl shrugged in that maddeningly serene way he knew drove her crazy.

"Is that all you have to say for yourself?" she asked.

"You should set the alarm next time."

"Howl!"

Sophie was staring at him exasperatedly, her cheeks stained with pink in her agitation and her hair loose around her shoulders. He couldn't help himself. Quickly leaning towards her, he kissed her on her parted lips and pulled away to duck under the covers, but left a space to peek out at her.

"You're infuriating," she said with no conviction in her voice now. She was even grinning, but trying to hide it from him. "I'll be in Kingsbury for the day. That is, unless my sisters have already gone without me."

"Aren't you going to ask me to come along?" he asked after her as she made for the door.

Sophie turned and smiled at him sweetly. "No."

Without another word, she walked out of the room.

/\/\/\/\/\

"Isn't it gorgeous?" Lettie squealed as she displayed the back of her hand and wiggled her fingers—one in particular—excitedly.

"It's a lovely ring, Lettie," said Sophie, beaming. "About time Ben got on with it. Howl was beginning to think he would never ask."

Martha darted up to her sister and threw her arms around her neck. "I'm so happy for you! D'you know when you're going to set the day yet?"

"Martha, if he just proposed last night, it's a little early to be—"

"Soon," Lettie readily interrupted her. "I want it to be soon."

The three sisters had been wandering around the shops in town when Lettie broke her news, bringing her hand out of hiding from the folds of her dress where she had been keeping her engagement ring a secret for nearly half an hour.

With her younger sisters prattling and giggling behind her, Sophie led the way through the crowded streets, pausing now and again at store windows to look at some odd trinket or other. She was feeling particularly cheerful as they meandered on in this way. The early July weather was beautiful, she and her sisters were finding happiness in their lives both in work and in love, and other inexplicable inklings of brightness came from a source she could not quite put her finger on. She nearly laughed as she saw Lettie stretch her arm out in front of her for almost the hundredth time since telling them about her engagement and study her ring at different angles, a smile blooming on her face.

As she looked at a few books on display in a brick-faced shop, Sophie caught the eye of a stranger in the reflection of the glass pane. She whirled around, and Lettie and Martha glanced at her quizzically.

"What's wrong, Sophie?"

"I thought I saw…" Sophie craned her neck to seek out the man, but he had become lost in the bustle of the street. "Never mind. It was nothing."

An hour later when the girls sat down to lunch at a quaint outdoor bistro, Sophie found her attention grabbed again as she started to order.

"…Sophie. Sophie?" Martha was calling her.

"Huh, what?"

"The waiter asked if you're ready."

"Oh," she was completely distracted at this point and didn't even spare the server a glance. "Nothing for me. I'm not hungry."

There was a small silence before she heard Lettie say, "She'll have what I'm having, thanks." When the waiter finally walked away, Lettie looked at her elder sister. "Now really, Sophie, something is obviously the matter. What are you looking at?" She turned to look in the direction Sophie had been staring but could see nothing that would be worth holding her attention.

Sophie's eyes were still fixed somewhere across the street as she haltingly responded, "I think…that we're being followed."

Immediately, Martha and Lettie squared their shoulders and drew closer together as if closing ranks against a threat. Ever since Sophie's run-in with the Witch of the Waste, she had been particularly watchful of these sorts of things, and her sisters trusted her intuition without hesitation.

"What is it?" Martha asked out of the corner of her mouth, like whoever it was could hear what she said if it was spoken any higher.

"I don't know. I could be wrong, but there has been a man I've seen near us several times while we were walking, and I thought I saw him again just now. He's not there anymore."

"What did he look like?"

Sophie looked back at her sisters, who she could tell were somewhat spooked. "He had strawberry-blonde hair and was wearing a blue cape. His eyes are strange; gold and catlike."

The sisters' appetites were spoilt. They decided to leave the bistro and head for Sophie and Howl's house, which was the closest, though still a mile off. They were quiet but on the alert as they treaded down the cobblestone paths, their eyes flicking around them to take in everything they could. The unexpected rift of their day together dampened their spirits considerably, and Sophie felt guilty, chiding herself for being such a paranoid ninny.

The streets were somewhat deserted as everyone had gone to enjoy their midday meal and rest at home. Sophie was beginning to think that maybe it would have been wiser for them to stay at the bistro because at least there had been comfort in numbers when she spotted a flash of blue whip around the corner of an alleyway up ahead.

Touching her sisters gently on their forearms, she gestured for them to hang back while she walked ahead. She reached the storefront next to the alley. It was the one where she had been glancing at books.

In a fluid half-leap, she stepped into the mouth of the alley and found herself face-to-face with the man she had described to her sisters. There could be no mistaking it for coincidence now: he _had_ been following them. Not waiting for him to assail her or even speak, Sophie acted.

Noticing the books laying innocently in their window, she waved her hand before her and called, "Come on, you books! Help me." At once, the thick, leather-bound tomes shattered through the glass and flew towards her. "Get him! Smack him around the face! Give him bruises he won't forget and a headache to boot!" The books raced to obey, soundly walloping the man, who had thrown his arms above his head to ward off the blows.

By the time Lettie and Martha had run up to find this spectacle playing out, the cowering stranger was crying out as the spine of an exceptionally fat book connected with his ear.

"Ow! Gerroff, _gerroff_! Sophie, call the blasted things off already!"

Sophie knew that voice.

"Stop," she ordered. At once, the books froze in mid-swing and then fell to the cobblestones with several loud whumps. As she peered at the man while he straightened up, she saw his reddish hair was now blond and his eyes were dyeing themselves a familiar green.

"Howl!" Lettie and Martha exclaimed.

"Ladies," Howl responded with much more dignity than a man who had just been beaten by half a library should have claim to muster.

"What on earth were you doing following us in a getup like that?" Martha asked bewilderedly.

Lettie added, "You scared us half to death."

"That was not my intention," he apologized. "Quite the opposite in fact. There's a wild wind coming off from the Waste and I came to keep an eye out and make sure you all were safe. I didn't want to break up your girls' day, so I trailed in disguise, but…" He trailed off because they knew the rest. Before they could ask any questions, he continued, "Now if you don't mind, I'd like to accompany you back to your homes. It looks like it's about to rain anyway."

Howl was right. The sky that before had been practically cloudless was now overcast and quickly becoming darker.

/\/\/\/\/\

Sophie remained uncharacteristically silent as they escorted Lettie back to Ben's and Martha went on through the moving castle to her flat near the bakery, but the second they were alone, she whipped around to face Howl as he closed the door.

Her eyes were flashing. "Do you not care about me at all, Howl, or is it just that you don't understand anything that doesn't have to do with you?"

"_What_?" Howl said, completely gobsmacked.

"You knew I haven't been able to see both my sisters properly what with one thing or another for ages, but you still had to be selfish and come to ruin it, didn't you?"

"I told him you'd be mad," a voice from somewhere by the fireplace said. A flickering blue teardrop of flame that was Calcifer appeared and floated in the air by the couch.

"Now hold on—" Howl protested.

Sophie cut across him. "The lie about the wind was a nice cover by the way." She strode towards the staircase, but he caught her arm halfway across the room and turned her around to face him.

"I wasn't lying! There was a wind coming from the Waste and it felt restless, like trouble is starting up. I came to do exactly what I said."

Sophie was thrown off by his honesty, but in another moment her anger won out again. "Just the excuse you needed to gatecrash then. I can take care of myself."

"So I've seen." Howl put his free hand to gingerly touch his split bottom lip and drew his fingers away to see them flecked with blood. "You didn't have to tell them to hit me _quite_ so hard, you know."

"Oooh! I only wish I had made them bang you harder!" With that, she ripped her arm away from Howl's grip and escaped upstairs.

Outside, the storm that had been brewing broke with a loud clap of thunder that shook the castle. The bedroom window, which Howl had enchanted to overlook his sister's garden, did not show the rain but instead let in the sunshine of Wales. Still, Sophie could hear the drops pelting against the shingles.

She paced the length of the floor fuming and…why was she fuming? She sat on the edge of the unmade bed. Howl had only come after her to make sure she was safe. So, why was she so angry?

Sophie's temper was waning as she deliberated its feeble foundation. She was starting to feel very tired and a wave of nausea washed over her unexpectedly, but she controlled it as best she could.

A knock at the door made her jump. Howl let himself in and came to sit next to her on the bed.

"Still mad?" he asked.

At the same time she blurted, "I'm sorry."

He laughed softly before a serious air took over his face. "I know you're frustrated that I messed up your time with your sisters."

"Yes," Sophie said unsurely, trying to convince herself that that was the reason for her flare up.

"I realize I'm a selfish idiot most times," Howl went on, looking at her profile as he did, "but I love you and I would never do anything on purpose to make you unhappy." A grin pulled at the corners of his mouth. "Not seriously, anyway. I really did just want to make sure you were okay."

"Oh, Howl," she said, recalling her words with chagrin. "I know. It was just something I said. I didn't mean it."

With a sigh, she got up and went down the hall into the chaotic rainbow of his bathroom, coming back with an unstoppered bottle of salve and a cotton-piece in her hands. As gently as possible she dabbed the stuff onto the little scrapes over his face, last of all applying it to the cut on his lip.

After a minute, it was not the cotton-piece that was pressed to Howl's mouth, but Sophie's own lips as they fell back onto the bed and rolled into each other's arms.

* * *

End Author's Notes

I've planned out about ten chapters for this, and I'll do my best to update weekly.

* * *

_This story is featured at FFNet's "__The Best of DWJ__" and "Closet Stories" community archives._


	2. In Which Some Revelations are Made

Author's Notes

The war mentioned here is a battle between Ingary and High Norland against Strangia. It's on the brink of being declared in _Howl's Moving Castle_ and is basically resolved by the time _Castle in the Air _takes place. I've worked out a timeline here where the war has started nearly a year before and it's right in the thick of it during this story.

* * *

**Chapter 2, In Which (Some) Revelations are Made**

* * *

Sophie woke up the next morning to find that it was still raining in Kingsbury and that Howl was already gone.

Reluctantly, she left her warm bed, dressed, and headed downstairs to make some breakfast. There was no one in the kitchen. Howl was nowhere to be seen, and neither was Michael or the new apprentice, Edmund.

Furrowing her brow, Sophie took the teakettle from the cupboard, and while it filled with water at the tap, she put three dripping slices of bacon into a frying pan.

"Calcifer?" she called.

"Yes?" came from the next room.

So she wasn't alone. "Where is everyone?"

She heard him mutter something that sounded distinctly like 'do I not count?' before he answered more loudly, "Howl and the boys went over to Wizard Suliman's. They're trying to figure out what that wind blowing off the Waste yesterday was all about."

Armed with the makings of her breakfast, Sophie approached the hearth where Calcifer was blazing.

"Oh no!" Calcifer whined the second he caught sight of her. "No, no, and no. You humans eat too much. This is degrading and I won't stand for it anymore!" He drifted out of the grate, leaving behind some blackened logs.

"That's fine, Calcifer." Sophie walked past him, setting down the teapot and the pan. She knelt in front of the hearthstone and from her sleeve pulled out a packet of matches.

"You would light some pathetic little spark in _my_ fireplace?" He sounded absolutely scandalized.

It was the same every mealtime. Whenever someone—usually Sophie—would try to go about fixing food, Calcifer would throw a tantrum if they so much as looked at him while holding a ladle, but if they tried using another fire, he acted mortally offended at the thought of an unintelligent flame burning in his rightful place. This would go on until he conceded to cook their food, but only after he established that he was not doing it out of servitude, but as a thoughtful favor.

Today, however, Sophie was not in the mood to flatter him into returning to the fireplace. She had not slept well, her touch of nausea revisiting her and keeping her up half the night.

"Calcifer," she said wearily, gripping the kettle and getting back to her feet abruptly so she could face him, "do we have to go through this every—?"

The room was spinning. Her question died on her tongue as a dizzy sensation besieged her and dark spots clouded her vision.

"Sophie?"

She crumpled to the floor.

/\/\/\/\/\

"Sophie!"

Her eyes cracked open. She was flat on her back on the floor and she felt wet.

Outlined by the ceiling, Calcifer bobbed above her with an upset look distorting his flames. She could feel his heat on her face he was so close. Slowly, Sophie pushed herself up and propped herself against the stonework of the hearth.

"What happened?" he was asking. "Are you all right?"

She saw that the teapot had fallen from her grasp and the water had sloshed all over her as it hit the floor. At least it hadn't been warmed up.

"Yes. I must have made myself giddy from standing up too fast." Sophie probed the back of her head with a small flinch.

"I'm going to get Howl."

"What for?" she laughed. "So you can alert half of Ingary to how clumsy I am? Besides, if you go tell Howl, Michael and Edmund will overhear, and Ben will surely tell Lettie who will tell Martha, and it'll all be for a silly fainting spell. Leave him be, especially if he and Ben are working on something important."

Considering the matter settled, she stood up and ignored the ebbing vertigo as she walked to the kitchen to grab a dishcloth for the water she had spilled. As she finished mopping up the last puddle, she raised her head only to find Calcifer watching her warily like he expected her to drop again at any moment.

"I'm fine, Calcifer," she told him, touched by his concern. "Really."

"I still think I should go get Howl."

"You're free to think it as long as you don't actually do it. Besides, it's raining out. You should stay inside. Now, I'm going upstairs to change and get a bit of cleaning done. I'm not very hungry after all, and I can't remember the last time I dusted Michael and Edmund's rooms."

/\/\/\/\/\

"Ugh."

Sophie swung open the door to Michael's room, and the noise that came from her pretty accurately described just how it looked: ugh.

A thick coat of dust lay over everything, and it looked as if the spiders she had cleared out from Howl's bedroom when it went from being _his_ to _theirs_ had reinstated themselves into the castle by way of the corners of the ceiling here. The dresser drawers were all open to varying degrees, but she doubted whether closing was part of their functionality anymore or not because they were crammed with so many garments, they were overflowing. Books and loose pages torn from them were scattered across the floor and furniture. The bed at the center of the room was not only unmade, but the sheets were basically half-off the mattress and trailing onto the floor as if Michael couldn't be bothered to right them. Something that looked suspiciously like a potion gone wrong stained a large chunk of the carpet while the rest was eaten away as though the concoction had been acidic.

"He's lived with Howl too long," she murmured as she stood in the doorway.

Not for the first time, Sophie wondered if she had done the right thing in closing the flower shop for a month or so as a sort of self-proclaimed holiday. She couldn't help thinking how she would much rather be picking and arranging her flowers right now than staring down the prospect of scouring grime from the upholstery of Michael's chair.

Picking her way over a balled-up robe, a container of frogspawn, and some wadded up parchment, she decided to start by making some space on his bookshelves so she could at least clear part of the floor for her to maneuver around. They were lined with not only books, but cracked phials, broken quills, and several pairs of shoes. Sophie didn't stop to question any of it as she tossed the wrecked items away and stowed the shoes into the closet. With that a little more freed-up, she collected the books from around the room. The bottom half of the bookcase was actually a desk, and as she placed _Commonly Misspelled Spells_ on the shelf, she noticed a framed photograph on it and took it up.

It was a picture of Michael and Martha at the bakery, both smirking playfully with smudges of flour on their faces and clothes. Sophie smiled. In the confusion of Michael's room, this alone stood out as a possession carefully tended to and cherished.

The rest of the morning was spent setting rights to his room. Sophie managed to talk most of the things into cleaning themselves up after reproaching them for being so untidy, though this was still by no means an easy task, not the least reason being that certain articles like his socks had become shameless about the squalor they contributed to. In the end, the carpet was still somewhat singed, but she was relatively pleased with the outcome.

Howl, Michael, and Edmund hadn't come home by the time Sophie returned downstairs. She prepared herself some cold cuts for lunch to avoid cooking and any chance of repeating that morning's episode. As she devoured her well-earned cheese and sausage sandwich, she tossed bits of it to Calcifer, who it seemed had spent the better half of the morning amusing himself by popping out of the chimney to scare away the children of Kingsbury by wailing and pulling grotesque faces.

Sophie mounted the stairs once again to go to Edmund's room.

Edmund Cress first came to the moving castle a couple of months ago. A small, freckly boy three years younger than Michael, he had hammered on the Kingsbury door and demanded that he be accepted as Howl's apprentice. He was an elegantly-dressed kid, so he clearly wasn't asking out of need. Howl turned him away, replying that he already had an apprentice and that to take on another would be too much of a hassle, better luck with the next wizard.

But the next day, he was back. This time, Michael answered the door, and after hearing his petition told him to bugger off before he cursed him. It continued this way for almost a whole week, Edmund coming only to be refused, until Sophie stepped in.

"Howl," she said to him just after he rolled his eyes and closed the door in the kid's face before he even got a word out, "maybe you ought to give the boy a chance. You can handle another apprentice—Michael practically teaches himself by now." Seeing that Howl was about to complain and very probably stamp his foot in show, she hastily suggested, "At least look into whether or not he has the ability and deserves your attention."

In that way it was decided that the next morning when Edmund came, as he was bound to do, Howl and Sophie would accompany him home to observe the boy and have a talk with his parents.

As Edmund led the Jenkinses to his home, they were quick to notice that their impression of his being well-off was in fact true. They followed him into the upper-half of Kingsbury where the homes of nobility clustered around the outskirts of the Royal Palace and entered a pale lavender mansion.

Edmund seemed stunned that both of his parents were home, and after exactly four minutes of conversation, Sophie could see why. Lord and Lady Cress were the most self-interested people she had ever met in her life, and she was married to Howl. But where Howl's selfishness was tempered with his loyalty to the people he loved and other natural human qualities, the Cresses did not appear to be hampered by any such traits. It was clear that Edmund, while well provided for, had never known a moment's happiness in his parents' home and, in spite of having dozens of servants inhabit the same space as he did, had led a very lonely childhood. It was a surprise to his parents that Edmund had an interest in magic, but then, Sophie guessed they also would have been surprised to learn their child was thirteen years old.

Before she had even finished her first cup of tea, her knuckles had gone white from gripping the arms of the chair she sat in to prevent herself from shouting at these beastly people. It was no longer a question. As he and Sophie rose to take their leave, Howl asked Edmund if he could start immediately.

Howl also added that as part of the apprenticeship, he would have to come live in the moving castle with them. This wasn't necessarily true, but Edmund seemed so excited and his parents so indifferent to whether he stayed or not that Sophie was fiercely gratified to see him come down the sweeping main staircase ten minutes later dragging an improbably large suitcase behind him. She even gave him a swift hug as he joined them, and his face lit beet-red but he looked pleased.

She opened the door to Edmund's room and was relieved to see that it was nowhere near the condition Michael's room had been in and—dare she think it?—rather tidy. She didn't let herself get her hopes too high though. He had only been living here three months. Give him a little over double that in close quarters with Howl and Michael and there was no doubt his semblance of neatness would pass faster than a trek across the Waste in seven-league boots.

While she was lightly dusting and straightening up the little there was to, Sophie was suddenly forced to smother the urge to empty the contents of her stomach in the wastebasket next to the nightstand. The room was pretty much in order by then, so she went to her bedroom to lie out on the bed until the feeling passed, wondering if the bangers she had eaten for lunch were bad and wreaking revenge.

/\/\/\/\/\

Howl walked into the castle by way of the Kingsbury door.

His suit soggy from the rain, he trudged into the common room and threw himself onto the sofa, tilting his head back and shutting his eyes. A soft crackling noise from behind him announced Calcifer's presence.

"I should have asked you to come along today," he said without opening his eyes. "We didn't find out a bloody thing. All that spell-casting for nothing."

"Are Michael and Edmund still with Ben?" Calcifer asked.

Howl could see the hazy orange glow of him silhouetted through his eyelids as he hovered overhead. "No, they left after lunch to visit Martha. They should be back soon. Ben and I were summoned to the palace to see the king, on the other hand."

"More war plans?"

"Of course," Howl said somewhat bitterly.

Calcifer's flames spit contemptuously. "What's he demanding that the two of you contribute to that insanity now?"

"A portable device that the soldiers can use to cloak their garrisons from enemy eyes." He pinched the bridge of his nose wearily. "Where's Sophie?"

Calcifer hesitated.

"Calcifer?"

"She doesn't want me to tell you this, but I'm going to anyway!" burst suddenly from the fire demon. "It's probably nothing, but you should know that Sophie collapsed this morning a little while after you left."

Howl opened his eyes.

"She said she's fine," Calcifer plunged on, "and she wouldn't let me come get you, but it was a close call; she nearly bludgeoned herself on the hearth. She still did stuff like she normally does all day though, so I guess she's not doing too badly."

He stood from the couch and started going towards the stairs. "You should have come to get me anyway, Calcifer." He didn't say it like he was mad, just like it was a plain fact.

"You know how persuasive she is, Howl." To which the wizard only grunted and then scaled the steps two at a time.

He walked into their bedroom to find Sophie asleep on their bed with her head pillowed on her arm, a scene Howl found disconcerting not only because it was barely early evening, but also because her face looked a little paler than normal. Her chest lightly rose and fell as he came closer to her. He swept a few stray hairs back from her forehead and brushed his lips against hers.

Her eyes fluttered open. "You're back."

"Only just now," Howl told her, climbing into bed to lie down next to her.

Sophie shifted to turn and look at him. "Did you find anything?"

"Neither Ben nor I could make head or tail of any of it. We're going to try again tomorrow with Calcifer's help, but it may very well turn out to be nothing."

"Mmm," she mused.

He picked up a different thread of conversation, tired of worrying about that wind and war and anything else that wasn't to do with the woman beside him. He'd had enough turmoil for today. "By the way, I went ahead and congratulated Ben and your sister, but I think I still might have waited too long for her taste."

"Oh! I clean forgot to tell you yesterday. Lettie must think I'm such a thoughtless little bungler."

"I think she was pleased in her own way that you hadn't because I was one more person for her to tell the news to herself. She nearly dropped half her china when we were having lunch because she kept turning out her hand while offering me things so I would notice the ring."

Sophie laughed.

"So," Howl started casually, "what were you up to without me today? Besides pining for me, I mean."

"I spent most of it purging the seedy underbelly of Michael's bedroom. Between the pining, of course." She smirked and gave Howl a peck on the cheek.

"Anything else?"

"No. I tell you, if you had seen that bedroom, you'd be impressed that I still have all my arms and legs."

He gazed at Sophie. "So you're planning on not telling me at all that you fainted?"

She briefly looked taken aback before her eyebrows contracted down over her eyes in comprehension. "Calcifer."

"Yes, Calcifer told me, and it's a good thing he did because clearly you weren't going to."

"It was nothing." Shrugging, Sophie sat up, but Howl wasn't going to let this go so easily.

"It's not _nothing_," he said scathingly, sitting up with her. "People don't faint for nothing. Have you been feeling sick?"

"No."

Howl searched her with a piercing look that clearly said he thought she was lying. "Why were you sleeping?" he asked suddenly.

Sophie floundered. "Honestly, am I not allowed to nap, especially after tackling the mess in Michael's room?"

"You usually don't," he countered. He wondered why she was being so evasive about being sick.

"Howl, you're worrying over nothing." She slipped off the bed and went over to the door as she spoke. "I'm going to start dinner."

Left alone, Howl decided that for now, this too would have to be something he would figure out another day.

/\/\/\/\/\

The boys came running into the castle a second after the square knob in the lintel above the door turned to yellow, the portal from Market Chipping.

Dinner had already been laid out on the table near the hearth, where Sophie and Howl were just sitting down. Michael and Edmund chattered cheerfully to Sophie as they ate, Michael mostly about Martha while Edmund focused on describing how delicious the treacle tarts Martha had given him were.

Calcifer munched on sweet, young twigs from his place in the grate. Howl was quietly watching Sophie. If she was aware of his eyes on her, she didn't show it. Her concentration seemed wholly devoted to the boys, but in all honesty, she was thinking to herself that she had done a poor job of keeping her ill health hidden from Howl. He had enough going on as it was, what with being at the king and Prince Justin's every beck and call to magically strengthen their army, and now this wind business. The last thing he needed was to make himself uneasy over some trifling cold or other she had caught. She wasn't concerned about it herself. After all, it was trivial enough that it only affected her every once in a while, but she knew once Howl found out he would blow the thing out of proportion.

Later, when dinner was over and they had all gone to bed, Sophie felt a little unsettled as she crawled in between the sheets in case Howl started up again. To her relief, he only drew her to him in the dark and, after a minute or two, fell sound asleep, no doubt exhausted from the trials of the day. She followed soon after.

/\/\/\/\/\

In the first hints of dawn, Sophie's eyes snapped open very suddenly from deep sleep.

She knew what was the matter with her.

* * *

End Author's Notes 

If you'd like to drop a line or even a whole review of constructive criticism, please don't be afraid to post it. I really appreciate feedback on my writing.


	3. In Which Howl is Told an Announcement

Author's Notes 

Thank you to my anonymous reviewers, all of you who have already read and written in and those of you who will, since I can't contact you individually. Your comments really do mean a lot to me.

* * *

**Chapter 3, In Which Howl is Told an Announcement**

* * *

Howl woke up at an ungodly early hour like he had the morning before so he could head over to Ben's. Before rising, he pressed a kiss to a sleeping Sophie's temple, and as he pulled away, he noticed she still looked a little off-color.

He headed down the hall to the bathroom where he spent the next hour getting ready. When Howl emerged in a cloud of steam, he went to the staircase, but instead of going down to the common room, he went up to the next floor. Letting himself quietly into Michael's room, he saw that it was uncommonly clean and wondered how Sophie had found the energy to accomplish it while ill. Sprawled out on the bed, mouth agape and faintly snoring, was Michael.

He nudged Michael, who awoke with a bleated, "Whozair?"

"Michael, I'm taking Calcifer with me to Wizard Suliman's today. I want you and Edmund to stay here."

"'Kay," Michael nodded drowsily, dropping back onto his pillow with a muffled thud.

"Listen!" Howl hissed. "I want you to keep an eye on Sophie while I'm gone, but don't let her know what you're about, got it?"

His eyes peeped open just a fraction to look at Howl. "Why? What's wrong with Sophie?"

"Just do it, all right?"

"…all right."

Clapping him on the shoulder, Howl left his room and went downstairs.

"Calcifer, time to go," he called to the logs, underneath which a bluish-green flicker was visible.

At once, the embers blazed up and a yawning Calcifer drifted out of the grate to him. Howl clicked the knob to face orange-down and opened the door into Kingsbury.

The storm had finally moved on and a fine mist rose up from the cobblestones as the sun evaporated the wet left behind during their walk to Ben's.

It was Lettie who answered the door when they pulled on the bell-rope.

"Good morning, Howl, Calcifer!" she greeted as she ushered them in. As if she thought she was being offhand about it, she leaned her left hand against the wooden paneling of the front door.

Calcifer's light reflected off of it. "Oh! I see you have a clear, shiny rock. Are you going to be married to Ben then?"

Lettie seemed taken aback at his manner of putting the tradition, and Howl turned his bark of laughter into a cough as she replied, "Er…yes! Can you believe it?"

"For a girl like you? Absolutely."

"Oh, Calcifer!" she blushed prettily as Ben walked into the foyer.

"My best wishes for you both then," Calcifer said.

"Thank you," said Ben smilingly. "Shall we?"

Howl and Calcifer followed Ben into the house to a large room with sloping walls that looked like a cross between a study and an apothecary shop. The workbenches lining the place were covered in open rolls of parchment with funny markings on them, half-burnt candles, dusty books, boxes of chalk, and loads of other objects. A five-jetted fountain splashed soothingly towards the back end of the room.

"So catch me up from yesterday," Calcifer told the two men as he settled between them.

Howl and Ben exchanged a grim look, but it was Ben who spoke. "We know that it's a very potent, very treacherous force we're dealing with, and it most definitely is not another wizard."

Calcifer waited for him to go on. "Is that it?"

"That's it."

"And that took you _all day_ to come up with?"

"_Calcifer_," Howl said hotly in warning.

"Whatever this is doesn't want to be found," Ben interjected smoothly to avoid an argument. "It's being very careful about not being traceable. Even our divining spells went awry and fogged up so we couldn't see a thing."

"We might just be losing our touch, Ben old man," Howl voiced dispiritedly.

"Nonsense," Ben brushed off, "we probably picked up the warning too early to know anything definite."

"What do you want me to do?" Calcifer asked.

/\/\/\/\/\

With Calcifer's power added to their own, Howl and Ben spent the next several hours combing the Waste for any sign of the being that had stirred up the wind of caution they were heeding. Not once during their efforts did they find anything remotely comparable to what they were seeking, and by the time the afternoon sun was descending from its peak, the three of them were no closer to solving the reason for the alert than they had been in the hour the breeze had blown.

Disgusted by their lack of progress, around three o'clock Howl dumped off everything from his workbench and plopped onto it with a half-roar. How he longed to ooze green slime to vent his frustrations properly. Ben, deciding Howl had the right idea, looked up from his own workbench, rotated his neck to work out the crick he had from hunching over it for so many minutes together, and gave his aching feet a rest as he lowered himself into a stool.

"Maybe," Ben said in a voice that cracked from being dry, "it was a false alarm."

Despite what he'd said earlier, Howl was not at all persuaded to think that his instincts had deteriorated so much that he could not distinguish a real whisper of peril from the guise of one. Nevertheless, he was too tired to talk much, so all he said was, "Maybe."

"I think we should let this go for now, try looking into it again down the road when our heads are clearer and…" Ben pressed on like the idea he had to say was disheartening, but needed to be heard, "…when the danger looms closer because then it will be easier to detect."

Howl did not have to feign agreement with him this time. Resignedly, he nodded. He could see no other option.

With the issue settled, or more accurately deferred, they went forward with their duties to construct the latest commission for the war they had been charged with. If they could help it, Ben and Howl tried to never undertake creating weapons, diplomatically persuading Prince Justin and the King to call upon them only to ease the bloodshed through magically-enhanced first-aid kits and the like, and they managed most times. During the better part of yesterday, the Royal Wizards had delineated a way to achieve the King's orders, and the execution they devised was rather ingenious.

Afternoon bled into evening as they tinkered over the mechanism that could generate selective invisibility, or really, just the illusion of it. At last the contraption was completed and ready to be brought to the palace, but Ben sent Howl home, offering to deliver it himself. Howl gratefully took him up on this, and he and Calcifer took their leave with Lettie and walked back through the hectic streets of Kingsbury.

They walked into the castle common room, where Michael and Edmund were lounging on the floor playing gin-rummy on the coffee table. When Michael saw it was Howl, he sprang up, sending his hand of cards flying and bashing his knee painfully against the corner of the table.

Edmund looked up, clearly baffled at Michael, but Calcifer took the spectacle in and then said, "Oooh, what did you _do_?"

Howl's eyes raked the room and he thought he knew pretty well what had made Michael act so nervously at the sight of him.

Michael, rubbing his sore knee, brought his watering eyes up to look at Howl. "Sophie wouldn't let me go with her. She said I'd been hovering all day and she needed a moment. When I insisted, she had the armchair block me while she went through the portal. Now, every time I try to follow…" He abandoned his verbal explanation in favor of a demonstration. He made a tentative move towards the door, a motion which brought the ratty armchair that had been sitting innocently near the hearth to life as it scraped across the floor to bar Michael.

"Which portal?" Howl asked, half-vexed, half-amused as he removed the spell Sophie had placed on the chair, though he had a good idea already which one.

"The garden."

Howl turned the knob to purple and went through the door, shutting it firmly behind him as he stepped outside into a vast field of flowers that stretched farther than the eye could see. The sun cast a honey-orange glow over everything as he picked his way through the heady scents and bold colors of their garden, sure the direction his feet were taking him in was where she would be. The rains must have come through here as well because tiny droplets clung to the petals of flowers, and the sunlight made it all glisten dazzlingly.

Howl wasn't disappointed as he came close to the water, spying Sophie in her favorite spot, a small piece of the field that jutted over the lake. The flowers rustled softly as he walked on towards her. When he was very near to her, he could see that Sophie had her eyes closed and a small, almost imperceptible smile playing on her lips as she lay on a bed of white Chilean jasmines and golden poppies, her red-gold hair spread about her in thick waves. Howl no longer had it in him to tell Sophie off for ditching Michael as he'd been planning to do. He stood over her for a moment, just taking her in, before her eyes blinked open. When she saw him, there was no mistaking her smile as it lit up her whole face and a lively sparkle danced in her eyes.

Sophie got to her feet, took his hand, and without a word they started tracing the familiar path they usually walked through the field. At first they didn't talk, but soon, Howl was telling her about the failure of that day's hunt. She listened serenely.

"…even with Calcifer's help, we still couldn't find a single thing."

"Howl?" Sophie tried.

He went on, not having heard her in his resurgence of irritation at the whole situation. "Ben thinks we should wait until the danger is closer before we look into this again so we have a better chance of finding it—"

"Howl…"

"—and to tell you the truth, he's probably right, but I tell you I don't like it—"

"_Howl_—"

"—I don't like it one bit. What are we to do? Sit around and pretend that we don't know anything is—?"

"Howl, I'm pregnant!"

/\/\/\/\/\

The moment those words left Sophie's mouth, Howl was struck mute and he went absolutely still.

His grip had gone limp, so she untangled her fingers from his and shifted to be in front of him. He was staring back at her with an unreadable expression on his face, but she was uncertain if he even saw her. Silence stretched on for long minutes as they simply looked at one another.

The slight smile that had been on her face slowly slipped away the longer he went on saying nothing until it completely vanished in a haze of vulnerability. Sophie was beginning to feel uneasy. She'd been so ecstatic when she realized in the midst of sleep what her symptoms and even her high-running emotions all meant, and she had thought that Howl would be happy too. He had left before she woke again and she wasn't able to tell him in the morning; so, all throughout today. she had been picturing his reaction when she could finally tell him that they were going to have a baby.

In none of these imagined scenarios, however, had Sophie considered that maybe Howl wouldn't be glad, would just gawk at her in horror like the world had come crashing down around his ears as he was doing right now. Did he not want this child—their child?

The bitter sting of tears was starting to rise behind her eyes as all this went through her mind, and not wanting Howl to see her cry, Sophie swiftly turned from him with the feeling that she could walk well beyond the distant horizon of the field so long as she could get away from the burn of his gaze.

She had gone no more than two steps when she found herself being swept up into Howl's arms. He spun her in the air, and when her feet touched down on the grass, he kissed her breathless. Her heart thumped wildly in her chest as their kiss deepened, and with her arms around his neck, she drew him closer still.

"You beautiful, brilliant girl!" Howl gasped when they broke apart at last.

"Howl, are you happy?" Sophie asked as her eyes roved his face.

"Am I happy?" he echoed. At this point, he noticed a tear from moments before clung to her bottom lashes and he put a hand to her cheek and rubbed his thumb under her eye to wipe it away. "Of _course_ I'm happy, Sophie. I'm thrilled to the very core of my being. Did you think I wouldn't be?"

"No," she said with a hiccupping laugh at her own foolishness, "no, I only thought just now…you looked as if…oh, never mind!" she finished with annoyance at her inability to speak.

Howl kissed her again and then put his forehead to hers. "I was surprised, that's all. It's not every day you learn you're going to be a father." He chuckled as he said the last word. "I can't believe it. I'm going to be a _father_."

Sophie was beaming as she listened to him. They were going to have a baby. She and Howl were having a baby.

"I love you, Sophie."

"I love you too."

He lifted her up and twirled her around once more. When she was back on the ground again, she leaned into Howl and they kissed endlessly while the setting sun crept lower and lower and a warm breeze stirred among the flowers.

* * *

End Author's Notes 

I know most (rather, all) of you saw this coming, especially if you did read the sequels, but I hope the revelation of her pregnancy wasn't completely unoriginal in how it was written.


	4. Which Brings Sophie and Howl to Wales

Author's Notes

I love the idea of Daddy Howl and Mummy Sophie. How are the rest of you feeling about it?

* * *

**Chapter 4, Which Brings Sophie and Howl to Wales**

* * *

Howl and Sophie wanted the pregnancy to stay a secret for only them to share that first night. They returned home flushed and beaming long after Calcifer and the boys had gone to bed.

The following morning, however, they had decided it was only right to tell them. They could hear the clink of cutlery on china as they came down the stairs together, and they found Michael and Edmund setting the table while Calcifer was wordlessly heating a pot of tea.

"Morning, Sophie. Morning, Howl," Edmund called over to them.

Michael half-looked from folding a napkin and let out a mumbled 'morning' before going back to fussing with the way the butter knife sat next to the dish of marmalade. Howl could tell he was still feeling rather guilty about letting Sophie give him the slip last night, something which he had all but forgotten now. That didn't mean he still didn't want the boy to squirm a little. If there was fun to be had, Howl didn't give it up without partaking in his share, and messing with Michael, while not as entertaining as riling Sophie, was fun.

Sophie glanced at everyone and Howl could hear how she was holding back a laugh when she said, "What's all this?"

"Breakfast, of course," chirped Edmund.

There was no doubt Michael had arranged this and convinced the other two to help him as a way to get back on Howl's good side if he was mad.

From the grate, Calcifer piped up, "They manhandled me!" Though he continued to remain in the grate and make the water boil.

Since everything was already being tended to, Howl and Sophie went to take their seats and watched as Michael carried out a stack of glasses from the kitchen. Edmund followed closely with a pink-and-white striped box which looked like it had come from Cesari's. As Edmund folded open the box, Howl could smell the freshly-baked scones before he saw them. They were from Cesari's for sure; Michael must have run out to grab some from Martha earlier on.

"Michael?" said Sophie. He had yet to make eye contact with either Howl or her and knew it was only a matter of time before she said something. "I'm very sorry I left you yesterday when I went out into the garden." Finally, Michael looked up at her. "I was being difficult, and I know you were only doing it because Howl asked you to."

Howl snorted. He should have known she would guess the reason for Michael's fit of overprotectiveness. Ah well, there went his chance to take the mickey out of him for it.

"But," she continued, flicking her eyes to Calcifer and Edmund too, "we have something to tell you." She looked to Howl, inviting him to be the one to say it and at the same time taking a hold of his hand under the table.

"Well," he said carefully, the idea of how to break it coming to him as he went, "very soon we're going to have another person living here in the castle with us. A very powerful wizard most probably."

Sophie rolled her eyes, but said nothing.

"You're letting out another room?" said Edmund incredulously. "After all the trouble you gave me?"

"I've very little choice in the matter. They're going to _have_ to stay here."

Michael, seeming much more relaxed now that he knew Howl could not rag on him, questioned nonchalantly, "So, when is this happening?"

"In a little less than nine months or so, I dare say," Howl answered just as casually. He saw out of the corner of his eye that Sophie was concealing the smile plastered on her face behind her teacup.

"And who is—?"

"_No!_"

The yelp had come from Calcifer, who was looking back and forth between Howl and Sophie like he was discovering something of great importance written on their faces. Howl smiled now too.

"What?" Edmund asked in alarm.

"You gormless twits, don't you understand? Sophie's pregnant!" Calcifer cried delightedly, shooting from the grate and bouncing in midair.

The plate Michael had been about to scoop his helping of fried eggs into slipped from his grasp and hit the floor with a clash where it broke clean in two. He hardly seemed to notice. "You guys are having a baby?" he asked dazedly.

"Yes," said Howl, wondering fleetingly if the boy was upset.

But in the next second, Michael's face split into a wide grin and he sprang to embrace Sophie and give Howl a warm handshake as he began to laugh.

"Congratulations!" Edmund was saying as he followed suit in hugging Sophie and grabbing Howl's hand.

Calcifer was pulsing with glee. "Howl a father! I never thought I'd live to see the day, even with my thousand years." He circled around Sophie's head, almost a blur. "And Sophie! This explains…haha! How long have you known?"

To Howl, it looked like the smile on her face would never fade. "Not long—only since yesterday. I was rather slow on picking it up myself."

It was then Howl was sensible of the fact that his lips were forming the same bright smile. He felt untouchable. What were silly gusts to the happiness he felt in this moment? Nothing could ever bring him down from the delirious bliss he and Sophie were experiencing right now.

/\/\/\/\/\

Later that morning, Sophie briskly walked through the courtyard lined by potted trees that led to Ben's house.

Lettie had asked her sisters to come for something important, but let her summons stand vague. Sophie, driven by curiosity, hurried there now, just having heard the message from Martha through Michael.

"Wait for me, Sophie!"

The voice came from behind and Sophie turned on her heel to face the source. She must have done it a bit too fast, however, because her head went reeling and her vision blurred for a moment. Steadying herself with a gulp of air, she inwardly scolded herself to be a little more heedful of how she carried herself now that she knew she was going to be more susceptible to vertigo for a while.

When her wooziness subsided, she could see Martha running and waving to her as she dodged a group of three or four people who were headed in the opposite direction.

"Good, I'm not late!" Martha panted as she came to her side. "I asked to have my morning and lunch breaks now so I can stay until the afternoon rush."

"Do you know what this is about?" Sophie asked as they strode up to the front of the nice house and rapped the brass knocker on the door.

"No idea."

The door swung open and an excitable Lettie beckoned them in. Sophie exchanged a look with Martha before they followed her inside.

Once the sisters were seated in the parlor, Lettie, sitting across from the other two on the edge of a chintz chair, promptly started talking. "You're never going to believe this. Yesterday after Howl left, Ben went to confer with the King on something to do with the war, and our engagement came up. Anyway, the King said that Ben's position gives him the right to hold the wedding ceremony at the palace and he invited us to do just that. So…we're getting married in three weeks!"

Sophie felt her jaw drop.

"That's amazing, Lettie!" she heard Martha exclaim, but the next thing her youngest sister said could have been taken right from her own mouth. "I know you said you wanted to have the wedding soon, but…wow."

"Yes, I know it's awfully fast," Lettie agreed eagerly, "but what have we got to wait for?"

She had a point, and Sophie knew Lettie was not just rushing thoughtlessly into marriage for the sake of it. She had her pick of husbands growing up, her beauty catching the eye and heart of practically every man she ever came across and earning her quite a number of proposals. With Ben, Sophie knew Lettie was marrying for love, and he was such a good man who she'd taken the last year to get to know. What objection could there be, even if the time from the proposal to the altar was short?

"We're going to be positively _slaving_ to get this thing together in time," Sophie said good-humoredly.

Lettie gave a gurgle of laughter which Martha and Sophie joined in because her happiness was contagious. "Oh, but we won't be doing anything too extravagant. The ceremony, the dinner afterwards, and the minister are already being provided for by the King."

Sophie cut in, "You'll be getting the flowers from me, of course. You can come handpick the kinds you want straight from our garden whenever you like and I'll take care of actually arranging them."

"And I'll make you the most delicious wedding cake!" Martha added. "There's this red velvet cake recipe I've been dying to try out."

"Which really only leaves the dresses," Lettie finished.

"I can do those as well," Sophie volunteered.

"Sophie, it's too much—" she protested, shaking her dark mass of curls.

"Rubbish. I'll put the rose outfit I made for you that May Day to shame, you'll see."

Lettie beamed. "You both are so…just the…"

"We know, we know: the greatest sisters ever," interjected Martha.

The three of them started laughing all over again when Sophie suddenly felt like she was going to be violently ill. Leaping up so fast that she startled her sisters, she bolted down the hall and just made it into the loo before this morning's breakfast came heaving up. When she was finished, she came out to find Martha and Lettie anxiously hovering outside the door.

"Sophie, you're like a sheet! Whatever is the matter?" Lettie said, grabbing Sophie's arm.

She led her into the kitchen to place her in a chair while Martha went rushing ahead to the tap to fill a glass with water and cut up some lemon slices in it for good measure, handing it to Sophie. Gratefully, Sophie put the glass to her lips and swigged, the lemon juice helping to chase away the nasty taste of bile that was left behind in her mouth.

Both of her sisters were watching her as she set the cup down on the table and felt her stomach settling again.

"When did you start feeling ill, Sophie? Do you want me to walk you home now?" Martha was asking.

At the same time, Lettie said, "Ben might be able to whip up something for you to take. Where does it hurt?"

Sophie waved a hand which silenced them both. "No, I'm fine, I'm not ill. I mean, obviously I just was _ill_, but not in that sense."

They stared at her with puzzled expressions.

She looked them full in the face. "I'm pregnant."

There was a five-second pause where none of them moved before Lettie practically threw herself at Sophie. "_Sophie_! Really? This is wonderful!"

Martha, unable to wait her turn, piled onto the hug and from the confusion of the sisters' knotted limbs came her merry voice. "How exciting! Lettie, we're going to be aunts. Sophie, oh Sophie! How far along are you?"

"Not much more than a month."

Lettie clapped her hands. "How did Howl take it?"

"After he regained the power of speech, he was very happy," Sophie said with a smile.

The sisters took to laughing almost hysterically again.

"What's so funny?" Ben had just walked into the kitchen.

Lettie stopped her chortling long enough to get out, "Ben! Sophie's got big news."

"Howl and I are having a baby."

His eyes widened in surprise before he gave Sophie a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "That's fantastic! Congratulations."

She returned his hug. "Thanks, Ben. And I hear the Royal Wizard will be having his nuptials to my sister at the palace in three weeks."

"He will be," Ben said, puffing out his chest.

"Well then, we've a lot of work to do. Lettie why don't you grab me some parchment so we can start sketching out what you'd like your dress to look like?"

/\/\/\/\/\

The rest of the morning passed in a whirlwind of measurements and talk of potential color schemes. By noon, Sophie and Martha were making their way back through the maze of Kingsbury streets to the castle. Once they arrived, Martha only passed through, taking the portal to Market Chipping back to Cesari's. It seemed everyone was out, so Sophie sat on the sofa to have a rest before getting up to fix lunch.

The door from Market Chipping swung back open seconds after Martha left, and Sophie thought maybe she had forgotten something, but it was Howl who walked in, looking ridiculously pleased.

"I take it you told Martha about the baby. That, or the hug she just gave me before dashing off is proof that she's fallen in love with me. It was bound to happen. I just hope Michael doesn't take it too hard."

Sophie decided to play along. "Didn't I tell you, Howl? Michael and I are running away together. We told Martha she could have you as a sort of swap."

That wiped the smug look from Howl's face, and he sat down next to Sophie with his arms crossed, sulking. "It's _not funny_ when you say it."

"I disagree." She rested her head on his shoulder as he continued to pout, but it was not long until he uncrossed his arms and clasped them around her to nestle her more comfortably to him.

While they sat, Sophie quietly voiced something that had been tugging at her since the moment she told Lettie and Martha about the pregnancy. "Howl? We should go see your sister and her family to tell them, you know."

Howl didn't say anything.

Sophie knew he'd never been on the best of terms with Megan, but he did go to Wales quite a bit, at least for his niece and nephew. However, with a rush of guilt, she realized that he hadn't gone there nearly as often as he once had ever since marrying her. There was a reason for that.

Last year, when Howl had brought Sophie to introduce her as his wife to his sister's family, things had not gone well.

They had been shown in stiffly to a formal, almost sterile, living room where they sat with his sister, her husband Gareth, and their children, Neil and Mari. Megan was surprised, to say the least, to learn her brother had been married, and she didn't bother to hide her scrutinizing gaze of Sophie during the entire visit. Sophie had no trouble interpreting her look—Megan was trying to find out what about her was so special to make her philandering brother settle down. She could also see that Megan was a little hurt that she hadn't been invited to the wedding, but that would have been impossible. Howl's sister knew nothing about Ingary in this strange world of hers.

While she was never outright rude to her, it was clear that Megan had almost at once decided that Sophie was just some good-for-nothing fetch who had caught the fancy of her good-for-nothing brother.

A half-hour into sitting there without a second's respite, she asked Sophie, "So, how did you meet Howell?"

"Er…" Sophie was unsure how to answer. Under normal circumstances, it was a harmless enough question in itself, even if their story was a bit complicated, but how on earth was she to answer it when Megan was ignorant about magic and the whole existence of their world? On top of this, the box to the side of the room which was entrancing the children with its bright moving pictures and loud blasts of sound was beginning to give Sophie a headache.

Howl smoothly came to her rescue. "I walked into a hat shop on the Isle of Anglesey where Sophie worked. She talked me out of buying a dreadful chapeau, I bought her dinner as a thank you, and one thing led to another."

That was probably as close to the truth as they would ever get.

"Anglesey?" Megan repeated in wonderment. "That's quite a way from Cardiff."

"Yes," Sophie said, masking her confusion. She thought this place was called Wales. Howl was grinning and she knew he was trying desperately not to laugh as they both thought the same thing: if only she had any idea how far Sophie really came from.

"You seem awfully young. How old _are_ you?"

"Eighteen."

Megan seemed unable to fathom it. "Goodness! Howell, you've practically robbed the cradle. You couldn't find a woman closer to your age worth marrying?" She tried to make her comment sound light and joking, but Sophie was a little stricken. Did she not look like a girl worth marrying?

Howl's smile had become fixed and his eyes resembled the marbles they had been when Calcifer possessed his heart. "Megan, why don't we go into the kitchen and see if we can scrounge up a bottle of champagne or something to celebrate?"

Jerkily, he stood up and walked somewhere behind where Sophie was sitting and his sister was forced to follow. Left alone with Gareth and the occupied Neil and Mari, she fidgeted with the way her dress fell on her knees.

"Couldn't you attempt to be polite just this once, Megan?" came Howl's muffled, though not out of earshot, voice.

Megan's retort was not far behind. "You bring this child to my home without so much as a warning, tell me that you've married the girl, and you expect me not to speak my mind? Really, when I first saw her I thought you had brought a playmate for Mari!"

Sophie's face burned.

"Well, I'm sorry I fell in love with someone who doesn't match up to your unattainable standards," Howl bit sarcastically.

Even the children had turned away from the noisy box to face the direction of the yelling.

"Ha, _love_? I doubt you even know the feeling, but I expected no better from you, Howell! This girl looks every bit as much of a feckless bint as any other you've brought around, and how she beguiled you into—"

Her face was on fire, Sophie was sure of it. She heard footsteps banging behind her and turned to see Howl looking livid. He grabbed up her wrist and started pulling her towards the front door, uttering goodbyes to Gareth and the children over his shoulder.

It had taken five months, the arrival of Christmas, and the persistent urging of Sophie to get Howl to return to Megan's again. The patch-up with his sister was by no means a complete reconciliation, and Sophie suspected it had much more to do with the proxy of festive feelings and liberal quantities of eggnog than any actual apology on Megan's side, but afterwards, Howl began to visit Wales at a regular pace once more. Still, by some sort of unspoken agreement on Sophie and Howl's part, she hadn't gone with him again.

Back on the sofa in the castle, Howl sat up, jarring Sophie. "Yes, let's go."

At once, he started bundling her in the direction of the door.

"Now?" she spluttered. "I didn't mean we had to go barging in this second, I only—"

He paused in his haste and turned her to meet his eye. "I haven't the faintest idea how you could agree to return to my sister's house after the way she treated you, Sophie, but if we're going to do this, now is as good a time as any. It's better to get it over with, and the longer Megan knows, the longer she'll have to get used to the idea. Maybe the thought of a baby will even soften her up a little bit."

Sophie studied him. "…all right."

Howl turned the knob to black, and together they stepped through the portal.

/\/\/\/\/\

For the third time in her life, Sophie found herself face to face with the neat lettering painted on the plate above the postbox that stated _Perry Residence_.

"Here we go," Howl muttered as he pushed a little button to the right of the door. As he did, she could hear a buzzing noise coming from somewhere in the house.

Sophie was breathing a little quicker as the door opened.

"Uncle Howell!" It was Mari who answered.

"Good afternoon, miss. I've come to visit my niece. Is she home today? She's this small waif of a thing and has the same color hair as you."

"Uncle _Howell_," she giggled, "it's me!"

Howl widened his eyes. "So it is. But you've gotten so big!" Suddenly solemn, he added, "Maybe too big."

"I'm not! I'm not!" Mari shouted at once, jumping into his arms.

He laughed as he caught her. "Okay, not yet, you're not." With Mari in his arms, her turned to Sophie. "Mari, do you remember Sophie?"

Suddenly shy, the girl nodded.

"Hallo, Mari," said Sophie, taking her hand. "It's very nice to see you again."

Mari managed a 'hi.'

"Is mummy home?" Howl asked Mari, placing her down.

"Uh-huh," and she scampered off down the hall, clearly intending for them to follow.

Howl took up Sophie's hand and they made their way after Mari. Megan, Gareth, and Neil were sitting at the kitchen table where they seemed to be sitting down to begin lunch.

"Uncle Howell is here!" Mari sang out as she skipped into the room.

Sophie's step faltered as Megan stood from the table. The two women looked at each other from across the room.

"We were just about to have lunch," Megan spoke first in a voice that was neither hostile nor entirely genial. "Will you join us?"

"Thank you," Sophie stammered.

With two more places set, they all sat down to eat. There was no acknowledgment of what had passed last year, but Sophie was glad of it. At least this time, there was something to do to fill in the awkward pauses, and indeed the six of them spent most of their time concentrating on their plates, except for Mari, who was humming softly under her breath, and Neil, who would occasionally glance down the table at her.

When they finished, Sophie rose to help Megan clear the dishes, but Megan declined her help, saying she was a guest. Afters—a peach cobbler—and coffee were brought out.

Howl cleared his throat. "Sophie and I came to tell you some wonderful news."

"Oh?"

"We're having a baby."

Megan swallowed her mouthful of cobbler and set her fork down. "That's wonderful. Congratulations to you both."

While her tone was cordial, Sophie couldn't help but compare Megan's reaction to that of her own sisters. It held none of the warmth, of the genuine happiness, that Martha and Lettie had been bursting with. She felt a little sad, mostly for Howl, even as she thought it, but at the same time she knew that civil courteousness was a big improvement.

In the end, that realization didn't so much lessen her sadness as cement it.

/\/\/\/\/\

They didn't linger after dessert.

Once they got back to the castle, Howl let out a big sigh as if he had been holding his breath the entire time they'd been in Wales. He was glad that was over.

Megan had been fine and for that he was relieved, but while they all sat there sipping coffee, he hadn't been able to prevent himself from thinking about how Martha, a girl that was not even his own sister, had hugged him, but his sister could only offer an impersonal congratulations in the face of such life-changing news. And he knew Sophie had been thinking along the same lines.

Sophie.

Howl didn't think he would ever fully be able to put into words what it meant to him that she could put aside his sister's damned idiocy for his sake, or just how very much it made him love her.

But he hoped she knew as he took Sophie's face tenderly into his hands. "Thank you."

He lowered his head to attach his mouth to hers. She brought her arms up to grip the lapels of his emerald-and-gray suit as he kissed her long and slow, his hands sliding to tangle in her long tresses.

Sophie pulled back. "Let's finish this conversation upstairs," she murmured, looking at him bewitchingly through her eyelashes.

She took off for the stairs and Howl went chasing after her.

* * *

End Author's Notes

Let me know if that flashback was hard to follow where it began and ended. If it is, I'll try to find a better way to distinguish it from what is presently going on.


	5. In Which There is Planning and a Mishap

Author's Notes 

Over the weekend, I finally had the chance to go through _Howl's Moving Castle_ cover to cover, which I haven't done in ages. Is it possible for a book to seem more perfect every time you read it?

* * *

**Chapter 5, In Which There is Planning and a Mishap**

* * *

It was less than a week to the wedding and Sophie was in the thick of making the dresses.

For the past several days, there was little she had done that didn't concern cutting bolts of fabric, sewing hems, or embroidering designs. Obviously, Lettie's dress took precedence, but Sophie still needed her and Martha's bridesmaid dresses to look nice and somewhat uniform in spite of the sisters' differences in shading and shape.

As she sat up around eleven o'clock one night stitching lace onto Lettie's bodice by Calcifer's light, Sophie was devoutly grateful that it had come into her head to close the flower shop.

"Are you still at it, Sophie?" Howl was at the foot of the stairs.

Her eyes didn't leave her needle and thread as she responded. "I just have to finish sewing on this scrap of lace and Lettie's dress is done."

"I don't mean you've been too long on the dress, I mean you've been too long at work for today. You need sleep."

"I know. I'll be right there, Howl, but I'll sleep much better knowing this is done."

Calcifer crackled, "If she doesn't stop on her own, I'll start guttering so she has to come up."

"You do that, Calcifer."

/\/\/\/\/\

Howl woke up scarcely past dawn without knowing why. Turning on his side, he tried to get more comfortable. His hand grazed Sophie's side of the bed and all his fingers met was empty space. He forced his heavy eyelids to open.

Where was Sophie?

In his sleep-muddled state, he ludicrously wondered if she was still downstairs working on the gowns. Rolling out of bed, he shuffled down the hall in search of her, when a noise coming from his bathroom caught his attention. He pushed open the door.

Sophie was clinging to the sides of the toilet while she retched. When she had done, she sank exhaustedly to the floor and curled up on her side. That alone was a testament to how poorly she must have been feeling. Disgusted by the chaos Howl insisted on keeping the place, Sophie never even entered this bathroom anymore, preferring to use the downstairs one he had installed so that this had been become his own personal loo. For her to use it was odd, but for her to lie out on the tiles was unthinkable.

Howl tore over to her, knelt down, and gently lifted Sophie into his lap. His alarm increasing by the second, he saw that she was weeping. God, this was just a bout of morning sickness, wasn't it?

"Sophie," he said hoarsely, "what is it? Are you in pain? Do I need to get help?"

It seemed she couldn't find her voice as she shook her head at him. The motion was too much for her, and Sophie launched herself out of his arms to be sick again. Howl watched her, feeling useless. When her body stopped being wracked by spasms, he dragged her away and back to him. She was still crying.

He tried not to choke on the panic rising inside him as he held her shivering body. "I need you to talk to me, Sophie. What's wrong?"

"I can't do this," she sobbed into his shoulder.

"Do what?"

"_This_!" Sophie wailed. "I can't be pr-pregnant. I can't have a baby. I don't know the first thing about them. I'm going to be a terrible mo-mother!"

Relief flooded through Howl. He had been petrified that something was seriously wrong with her or the baby. He put a cool hand to Sophie's damp forehead as he tried to calm her. "Sophie, your emotions are in shambles, you've barely slept, you're weak from retching—you're not thinking clearly."

"N-no!" she protested while tears kept rolling down her cheeks. "That's not it. I'm not fit to be a mother. You saw me with Mari. It comes to you so easily, playing with her and making her laugh. I'm no good at it. This baby will hate me." She cried harder, which frightened Howl a little. He'd almost never seen her this worked up and vulnerable.

"Enough," he shushed her. "You don't know what you're saying. Our baby will love you. Once our son or daughter is here, you'll just _know_ what to do."

"What if I don't, Howl?"

She started shaking her head, but Howl wouldn't let her.

He grasped her chin. "Look at me. I love you, and you're going to be an amazing mother. What's more, you're not in this alone. We're going to learn together."

Sophie bit her lip and pressed her face into the crook of Howl's neck. He stood with her cradled in his arms and carried her to their room.

He sat up stroking her back soothingly until her sobs subsided and she fell asleep.

/\/\/\/\/\

Howl made Sophie sleep in that morning. She'd risen when he had, but he persuaded her to stay since Lettie's dress had already been finished. After much arguing that she still had loads to do, she agreed on the condition that Howl would come and wake her the moment Lettie arrived for their outing.

What seemed to her like only minutes later, Howl was rousing her to say that Lettie had come and was waiting downstairs.

"Edmund went to visit his parents, and Michael is staying in the castle to work out some practice spells I gave him. I'm going to Porthaven for most of the day to deal with some customers. If you need anything, ask Calcifer to come find me."

"I'll be fine," Sophie told him as she tied the strings of her dress.

Howl gave her a kiss and was gone.

Lettie was chatting with Calcifer as she came down the stairs. "There you are, Sophie. You were still in bed at this hour? Is everything all right?"

To which Sophie replied in half-truth, "Yes, just a little morning sickness." Eager to change the subject, she ploughed on. "Your dress is finished. Before we go, I'd like you to try it on so I know if I should make any adjustments before starting the others. Come upstairs."

"Hey, don't I get to see what it looks like?" Calcifer griped.

By that time, the sisters were already halfway up the stairs, but Lettie called back, "Yes, of course, if you like. But you can't tell Ben what you see!"

"Best not tell any of the boys," included Sophie. "They can't keep a secret if their life depended on it."

She showed Lettie to the spare room she kept her threads, needles, and fabrics in and where she'd hung the dress last night. She and Calcifer waited out in the hall while she put it on.

"So," Calcifer started hesitantly, "Howl looked a little preoccupied this morning. Everything good with you two?"

In spite of herself, a small grin tugged at Sophie's lips. "You're turning into a big old softy on us, Calcifer."

His flames burned a deeper shade of red as he muttered, "Don't spread it around. And you're not getting off that easy. I still want an answer."

She looked down at her shoes. "We're fine. I was overreacting like a great fool last night and I think I gave him a bit of a fright is all."

"Ah," he said as if he understood, but she knew the fire demon was probably more perplexed.

The door handle rattled then, and Lettie stood in the open doorway.

The lace bodice hugged her torso in all the right places while the sleeves stretched over her shoulders to the back in delicate diamond shapes. The skirt was satin and narrow, and it fell to the floor, trailing slightly behind her to create a bit of a train.

"I love it, Sophie, you've really outdone yourself. Do I look all right?"

Sophie was covering her mouth with the fingers of one hand while she took in her sister. She wanted to hug her, but was afraid of rumpling the dress. "Lettie, you look more than all right. You're stunning."

"I'll say!" sputtered Calcifer. "Ben won't be able to take his eyes off you."

Lettie's lips bloomed into a smile and she picked up the skirt so it wouldn't drag on the floor as she went back into the room. "I'm going to take this off before I ruin it somehow. Don't change a thing, it's perfect just the way it is. Sophie, I don't know how to thank you."

Sophie waved her into the room. "I'm your sister, you don't have to."

In a few minutes, they were back downstairs with wicker baskets in their hands. Sophie turned the square knob at the front door to face purple-down. She opened it to the field of flowers and led the way out, and together she and Lettie sauntered in the sweet, warm air to find flowers for the bouquets for the wedding.

They weren't very selective and picked anything that looked to be pretty and the right color as the tripped lightly through the field. They would toy with the combinations back at the castle and Lettie would pick the ones she liked best.

"How are you really?" asked Lettie out of nowhere.

Sophie stooped to pluck six or seven sun orchids. "What do you mean?"

"You seem off this morning, and when I asked after you to Howl, he looked…tense. I know when something's wrong with you, Sophie. You can tell me."

They were descending a little knoll and Lettie stopped at the bottom to face Sophie. "I…I was…I suppose Howl's worried because I sort of fell to pieces last night about the baby."

"Why? Has something happened?"

"No, no. I just…don't think I'm going to make a very good mother."

"What nonsense!" Lettie cried. "After all you did for me and Martha while we were growing up, how can you think that?"

She shook her head. "Lettie, I was only a year older than you and a few years older than Martha. I played with you, set you to rights when you had tantrums, silly things like that. I didn't raise you. I wasn't responsible for making sure you turned out decent, and knew right from wrong, and all the other things a mother is supposed to do. I'm afraid I'm going to muck up my own child."

"Cobblers. You had a much bigger hand in bringing us up than that, but if you don't realize it, then I don't know what I can say to make you," Lettie said simply, bending to gather a handful of yellow, half-blown roses.

They left the matter at that.

When the sisters filled their baskets to brimming, they wound their way back to the castle door. Sophie turned the handle and stepped inside, looking around to say something to Lettie as she did.

Suddenly, she heard someone shouting something she didn't quite catch before a bang like a cannon blast rocked the room and she found herself tumbling through the air. Her head struck something hard and she crashed to the ground insensible.

/\/\/\/\/\

Sometime midafternoon, Howl reached the Kingsbury door of the castle and the scene he found inside was madness.

The air in the common room was murky with reddish, noxious smoke and there were several indistinct figures stumbling and hollering in the crux of it. A bright spot he assumed was Calcifer zoomed around the room while he heard a female voice shouting for someone to get the window open.

In one smooth movement, Howl twitched his fingers and the vapor disappeared.

Now that the air was clear, he could see Michael, sooty-faced and coughing, was holding some of the spell pages he'd left him to run through. That explained the smoke. Calcifer's flames were wavering a bit as if he had almost been smothered. Howl was somewhat surprised to see Lettie in the middle of it as well, but more so when she looked down at some shape by her feet and gave a shriek, falling to her hands and knees to look at it.

"What in the name of—?" he began, but stopped dead.

It was Sophie. Sophie was the shape on the floor that Lettie was hanging over.

Howl flung himself to the ground. Her eyes were closed and her face was tipped to one side. He lifted her head into his lap, but when he pulled his hands away, there was blood on his fingertips.

"Hell's teeth," he cursed. He had to keep his head. "Michael, get me staphysagria seeds, calendula roots, and an empty vial. Lettie? Go into the loo right there and grab the bandages in the cupboard under the faucet."

Howl hooked his arms behind Sophie's knees and supported her head as he vaulted up the stairs. He put her on their bed and rolled her onto her side so he could see where she was injured. Pushing away thatches of her hair, he found what he was looking for. The gash didn't seem to be too deep, but it was still bleeding quite heavily.

Michael and Lettie came barreling into the room.

"Michael, fetch a wet towel."

Lettie was wringing her hands as she stood in the corner with distressed eyes. Michael was back before a half-minute had passed. Howl took the towel from him and used it sponge away the blood. He heard Lettie stifle a moan when she saw the red-stained cloth.

Turning, he said with all the patience he could rally, "Why don't you two go downstairs with Calcifer?"

They did.

Working quickly, Howl crushed the herbs he'd sent Michael for, mixed them in the vial, and muttered an incantation over them. He poured the salve over her wound and furled the linen bandage strips around her head to staunch the bleeding and to keep the balm steeping.

Sophie had not so much as stirred while he toiled over her, but that was only half of what was disturbing him. Unwillingly, his eyes drifted down along her body until they came to rest on her belly. Howl felt his heart clench. It was much too early for the quickening, so how could he know, how could he possibly even begin to tell, if something had happened to the baby? He thought he might vomit.

In a stupor, he stumbled away from Sophie and went down to the common room where Lettie, Michael, and Calcifer were waiting in silence. Michael jumped to his feet as the last stair creaked with Howl's weight and Lettie looked up, white-faced.

"Lettie." Howl's voice cracked. Calcifer's fiery stare was boring into him, and he tried again. "Lettie, do you know where to find a midwife? We need one to check…" He couldn't say it.

She shut her eyes briefly before rising to her feet. "I'll find one," she said firmly.

As she sprinted out the door, Michael sagged back onto the arm of the sofa. When the door clicked shut, Howl cast his eyes around the room. Various little baubles, the umbrella stand, and a kitchen chair lay scattered around the room, completely upturned, or even broken in some cases. Tattered flower petals were strewn about. Halfway up the wall next to the hearth, there was a scarlet spot which he realized with a sickening jolt was Sophie's blood. The ash on Michael's face was the only evidence left of the smoke.

Howl's eyes hardened. Darkly, he uttered, "Explain what happened here."

Michael looked scared out of his wits as he tried to talk. "It was the potion, Howl. I was trying to sort it out and I think I added too much essence of belladonna. When it started smoldering, I ran for it to duck behind the sofa before it exploded, but Sophie walked through the door right as it went off. I tried to grab her out of the way, but it all happened too fast."

Somehow he wasn't getting enough air into his lungs. Without knowing how he got there, Howl found he was towering over Michael while the boy shrank back into the sofa, trying to make himself as small as possible.

Calcifer came to Michael's defense. "It was an accident."

He knew that. He knew that and he didn't care. Howl still needed someone to blame for this. It was Michael's fault.

"Tell that to Sophie!" he spat. "Better yet, if she wakes up—" Why couldn't he breathe? "—you can be the one to tell her why her baby might be de—" His voice broke on the word.

Under the blackness of the soot, Michael's face was bloodless.

"Stop it, Howl!" Calcifer sizzled.

Howl turned his back on them both to go back to Sophie and wait for Lettie to return.

It was a quarter of an hour later by the time she came with the midwife, a thin woman with a head of silver hair, in tow. She bustled into the bedroom, turned Howl out, and locked the door behind him.

He was at a loss with what to do with himself and angry that he couldn't stay with Sophie. He actually had to restrain himself from opening the door back up himself magically and refusing to leave. He paced, never straying far from the room. He went into the library, stood there two seconds, and went back to look at the bedroom door. He left again, turned around the corner to the washroom, then returned. In that way, Howl visited the entirety of the top two floors of the house, always coming back to face the shut door. Finally, he gave up leaving altogether and stood against the wall opposite of their room, watching and willing it to unclose.

When the door did at last crack open, Howl thought he'd accidentally done it himself because he didn't see the midwife. Then she was there, rushing out like she was preparing to leave. When she saw Howl, she checked her step and summoned him to come closer, though she pulled the door into its frame behind her as she did.

"Everything's well. Mother and child are healthy as ever."

It felt to Howl like only now had his heart started pumping blood back through his veins.

"That knock to the head was by no means salutary though, so she needs to be on bed rest for at least the next two days."

"Of course, of course," he said distractedly. "Can I go to her?"

"She's not awake, but I see no harm in it. Tell her to take care, now. If she'd been further along, things might not have turned out so well."

He repressed the cold shudder that thought gave him, rumbled a quick thanks, and charged past her.

Sophie had been turned onto her back, but other than that, she looked just as she did when he left her. He stood at the side of the bed and stared down at her, stroking her cheek.

There was a light knock on the door and Lettie poked her head in.

"I spoke to the midwife before she left. Has she come around?"

"No."

She nodded slowly, glancing at Sophie while she did. "If it's all right with you, I'm going to go tell Ben I'm spending the night here. I want to see Sophie when she wakes up. I'll stop by Cesari's to let Martha know what's happened."

"That's fine," Howl told her quietly.

When he heard the door shut once more and her step retreating down the hall, he sat on the edge of the bed and looked at Sophie as she breathed in and out.

/\/\/\/\/\

In the evening, Howl went down to the common room. Calcifer was low on a log, but other than him, the place was empty.

"Is she up?"

"Not yet." Howl's eyes narrowed. "Shouldn't Edmund have been back by now? And where's Michael?"

"Noticed he's gone, have you?" grunted Calcifer.

"What do you mean gone?"

"I mean _gone_, Howl. As in left the castle."

"Where to?"

"I think somewhere in Kingsbury, but I can't be sure. Lettie and the midwife walked in right after him, and the portal wheel spun too quickly for me to see."

Howl swore and guilt crept over him. It was moments like these he loathed having his heart back.

Calcifer looked like he still wanted to reproach him, but what he said was, "Michael's not stupid, he can take care of himself. Since Edmund isn't back yet either, I'm betting they ran into each other and are hiding out at Cresses' house, but if he's not back by tomorrow, you need to go out and look for him." His voice softened as he added, "Stay with Sophie for tonight."

As Howl sat absorbing this, the front door burst open; however, it wasn't Michael. Martha came dashing into the castle with Lettie in her wake.

"Martha," the dark-haired sister panted at her fair-haired one, "you can't just go stomping in! I told you she's going to be fine."

"Do you expect me to be bloody calm after learning our sister is unconscious, Lettie?" she huffed.

Howl should have known Martha would be coming along with Lettie. "She's still out."

She whipped around to look at Howl while Lettie peered at him from behind her shoulder.

"Still? Is that normal?"

"Yes," he said, trying to convince himself of it as much as her.

Lettie seemed to sense that Martha was twisting a dagger that was already buried to the hilt in his gut. "_Martha_," she scolded. "Think a little before the words come out of your mouth." She looked pointedly from her to Howl.

"Oh, Howl, I'm sorry," Martha rambled. "It's just Lettie came into the shop and told me there had been an accident and I got all upset and I…come to think of it, I think I may have sent the bread boy flying into the sacks of sugar."

"You did, but he was all right."

Calcifer let out a noise that sounded suspiciously like laugh hidden in a forceful crackle of the burning logs. Lettie offered to clean up the mess in the common room.

"No need."

Howl flicked his wrist and spread his fingers out so that the chair and umbrella stand swiftly righted themselves, and the vase and another small knickknack or two mended in midair as they flew back to their spots on the mantel and coffee table. The flowers were swept away into the dustbin. The bloodstain on the wall faded into the whitewash, but he knew he was probably the only one who discerned that.

"So, Lettie didn't say exactly what happened…." Martha asked the question without actually asking.

He looked carefully at Calcifer. "A practice spell of Michael's went bad."

She looked cowed. "_Michael_ did this?"

"It was an accident!" Calcifer said.

"Of course it was," Martha snapped as if Calcifer had been the one to suggest it hadn't been. "Where _is_ Michael?"

Lettie looked around the room, obviously noticing for the first time that he wasn't in it.

Howl felt uncomfortably warm and wouldn't meet Martha's eye as he admitted, "He left after I yelled at him. I know it wasn't his fault, but she was bleeding out…and then the baby…"

Silence dangled over the four of them for a while.

"I'm going back upstairs to sit with her. If either of you is hungry, help yourselves." Even as he said it, he saw the girls shake their heads. "Well, at any rate, make yourselves comfortable."

/\/\/\/\/\

_She should have woken up by now_, Howl thought to himself wretchedly.

He'd left the Hatter sisters to their own devices downstairs with Calcifer nearly two hours ago, and still Sophie hadn't come to. He wanted to send Lettie for the midwife again.

He was sitting in a chair next to the bed with Sophie's limp hand resting in his. In desperation, he'd been talking on and off to her for the last hour.

"C'mon, Sophie, please," he murmured now. "Open your eyes."

"Since you asked so nicely."

Sophie's eyelids slit open and a smile trembled on her lips.

Howl seized the hand he'd been holding more tightly and feverishly kissed the back of it. He turned it over and pressed his lips to her palm too. He felt her other hand calmingly brush through his hair.

"What happened?" she asked while trying to sit up.

He moved to sit on the bed and gently pushed her down. "Don't get up. There was an accident with one of Michael's spells. You walked in when it blew up and you hit your head."

"Is Lettie or Michael hurt? What about Calcifer?"

"No, you got the brunt of it. They're all right." He didn't mention that Michael was missing. Now wasn't the time.

"_Howl_," Sophie gasped suddenly, her eyes going wide and her back stiff, "the baby—"

"Is fine," Howl finished for her. "A midwife came to see to you and she said everything is okay."

She sank back onto her pillow and closed her eyes. "Thank God," she whispered.

"I have, about a thousand times."

She cupped his cheek with her hand and sighed.

"Your sisters are here," he told her, leaning down to kiss her mouth. "They wouldn't go without seeing you awake for themselves. Are you up to seeing them?"

"What bedlam did this throw everyone into?" Sophie asked in amazement. "How long was I out?"

"All afternoon and most of the evening. It's eight o'clock now. It was agony."

She squeezed his arm in a gesture of comfort before he got up to bring Martha and Lettie to her. The pair of them practically ran when Howl told them Sophie was up at last, and there was not so much a conversation that followed than a tearful—at least on Lettie's end—exclamation of her name over and over as they huddled around her.

Since it was already late, they stayed the night in the spare bedroom that was on the topmost floor with Michael and Edmund's rooms, both of which lay void of their occupants.

/\/\/\/\/\

Sophie hadn't seen either Edmund or Michael since yesterday and she was beginning to get worried.

When she asked Howl about it, he slithered out of answering. Calcifer, who would come by periodically to make sure she was staying in bed while Howl was out doing something or other, was being just as evasive.

So when a rapping at her bedroom door turned out to be Michael with Edmund warily behind him, she was startled to see that his eyes looked red-rimmed and darkly shadowed. She struggled to kick off the covers and go to him, but before she could extricate herself, Michael threw himself onto her neck and started blubbering. She rubbed his back to try and console him, but was baffled when she realized he kept on repeating 'sorry.'

"Michael, what on _earth—_?" It was then she noticed Howl standing in the doorway.

"It's my fault," Michael said, roughly scrubbing his face with the back of his hand. "If anything had happened…oh, Sophie, I'm so sorry!"

"It wasn't your…Howl!" she said, suddenly stern. "What did you tell him?"

Michael balked when she addressed Howl from behind him. Clearly they hadn't come together.

"I said he was responsible if…if anything happened," he said in a low voice. He at least had the decency to look ashamed.

Sophie turned back to Michael. "Listen to me. It was an accident, I know that. Don't you dare blame yourself. Everything is fine, with me, with the baby, so don't think anymore about it."

He didn't look completely reassured, but she aimed a fierce look at Howl for him to say something.

"I was beside myself, Michael. I didn't mean any of it. _I'm_ the one who needs to apologize, and I'm sorry."

"Good," Sophie said, closing the matter. "Now, will someone please get me my sewing things? I still have two whole dresses to do."

Howl's expression became nettled. "For the love of all the bleeding hearts in Ingary, Sophie! I already told you this morning I wouldn't. You need to rest."

"I'm in bed, I'm resting. Now please bring it to me, or I'll get up and do it myself."

He looked at her incredulously for another moment before shaking his head and walking down the hall to get her basket. She, Edmund, and Michael could hear him ranting under his breath as he went, catching only 'stubborn' and 'loon' in the incoherent jumble.

"You see?" said Sophie with a smile at the two boys. "It's important not to take everything Howl says to heart when he's in a passion. If _I_ did, right now I'd be hacking up another of his suits. Then again, he _is_ bringing me my scissors…"

* * *

End Author's Notes

I have a feeling I might be getting a few comments about the way Sophie was acting in this chapter, so I guess the following explanation is a kind of preemptive measure.

Sophie is in no way the weepy, helpless type, but with her being a first-time mother and dealing with her emotions going haywire because of the pregnancy, I could see her losing it at some point, especially after trying to overwork herself like she normally does. As Howl once said, Sophie does nothing by halves. Really, the idea for her bathroom breakdown came from what she said in _Castle in the Air_ along the lines of not knowing what to do with a baby. That said, I really hope the scene doesn't seem totally unrealistic. If the justification still doesn't sit well, please let me know in your review.


	6. Which Has a Wedding

Author's Notes

Hopeless romantic alert. This is a hopeless romantic alert. This is not a drill people.

* * *

**Chapter 6, Which Has a Wedding**

* * *

The first of August, the day of Lettie's wedding, dawned bright and crisp.

Sophie walked up the palace steps with two cumbersome packages in her arms. One was the dresses for herself and her sisters, all enclosed in a baggy burlap sack so they wouldn't become dirty on her way through Kingsbury. The other contained the bouquets and nearly a pound of loose flower petals to scatter down the aisle.

Reaching the top of the mountainous staircase, she saw that a footman in royal attendant garb was waiting for her.

"Mrs. Pendragon?" he inquired.

"Yes," she nodded.

The footman took the parcels from her, much to the relief of Sophie's aching arms. "The Misses Hatter are expecting you. This way please."

She followed him into the enormous entrance hall, which despite the early hour, was a flurry of activity. Servants and footmen hastened to and fro with candlesticks and silverware while maids polished what looked like an already spotless crystal chandelier. In the middle of all this, a small figure with flaxen ringlets was pirouetting on her tiptoes and looking about the commotion like it was meant for her. As the girl spun again, Sophie saw her intently peeking at her.

"Sophie!" squealed Princess Valeria, her shoes slapping against the stone floor as she ran. "I was waiting and waiting for you. What took you so long?"

Sophie grinned down at the three-year-old. "I got here as quickly as I could. I had to bring the gowns, you know."

"I do," Valeria nodded sagely. "And guess what?"

"What?"

"Lettie said I get to be the flower girl!"

"You do?" Sophie bent down with her hands on her knees and gestured for Valeria to come closer as if to hear some grand secret. "Well, it's a good thing I brought all these flower petals for you then. It's a very important job, you see, being the flower girl. Think you're up to it?"

"Oh, yes," Valeria nodded again, this time seriously like she had taken on a daring mission.

"That's a good girl. Could you take me to Lettie?"

Valeria grabbed her hand and at once started pulling. Sophie bobbed her head in the direction of the footman to indicate that she'd found herself an escort, and he followed behind with the packages.

She was brought into one of the upper chambers. Inside, Martha was brushing Lettie's hair at a carved mahogany vanity. Sophie caught her dark-haired sister's eye in the mirror.

"There you are!" said Lettie.

She was a little surprised Martha had beaten her to the palace; she hadn't heard her come through the moving castle. "How did you get here so soon from Market Chipping?"

"I didn't. I stayed the night at Ben and Lettie's specifically." Martha grinned as she eyed the footman's load, "Let's see them then."

Sophie took both packages from the footman, who promptly left, and set the box on the floor while she took the burlap sack out and spread it over the bed. "Mind that I lost time to work on these because of the whole…incident," she warned. "They should still be flattering though."

"Oh shut up, Sophie, I'm sure they turned out spectacular."

Lettie's dress was on top of the pile, and Martha took a moment to finger the lace and satin in awe. This was the first time she'd seen the dress. "Lettie, I cannot _wait_ to see this on you."

"You've no idea," Sophie agreed, already having seen the effect once. Lettie beamed. She moved the cloud of white aside to reveal the others. Martha and Lettie looked bowled over.

"Pretty!" peeped Valeria.

"You made these in four days?" Lettie asked. It wasn't really a question. They knew she had, but seeing the results made them wonder how it was even feasible.

"Okay, enough gawking. It's time to start getting ready. You can't be late to your own wedding." Sophie paused. "Well, I suppose you could, but that wouldn't be very nice to poor Ben, now would it?"

Martha snorted, and even Lettie had to giggle.

The next hours whittled away as they scuttled about to tie each other's dresses, sort shoes, and tend to the other hundred tiny details that always seem to crop up in the last moments before something big is about to happen.

/\/\/\/\/\

Howl, in his blue-and-silver suit, stood next to Michael and a fidgety Ben, looking out over the crowd as the low melody of a violin played.

Lettie, with the whole Royal Palace at her disposal, had chosen the garden for the ceremony. Rows and rows of chairs had been brought out onto the lawn, and every one of them was filled by family, friends, and scores of people from around the country who merely came to witness the majesty of a palace wedding. The King of Ingary was also among the guests. Prince Justin was on the King's left and Calcifer occupied the chair to his right as best as he could; that is to say, he hovered over the cushion, careful not to actually let a single tongue of his fire touch the lacquered wood.

An ivory runner divided the seats into two sections, acting as an aisle. On the other side, in the third or fourth row, he could see Mrs. Fairfax with her piles of butter-colored hair. She was deep in conversation with some poor soul who clearly hadn't realized what they were getting themselves into when they had merely said a polite 'how do you do?' upon taking the seat beside her.

Howl perceived his mother-in-law, Fanny Smith, and her new husband on that same side sitting front and center. She was looking deeply gratified that one of her daughters was being married with so much grandeur surrounding her, though perhaps not so happy as she might of looked had it been Martha making so prosperous a match. The corners of his mouth tipped slightly down. Fanny had always reminded him irrevocably of Megan in that regard.

Seamlessly, the music changed to a more lilting strain and every head turned to look back expectantly.

Wearing a pale yellow frock, Princess Valeria waltzed down the runner, a toothy grin on her face. Next to her walked Edmund as ring bearer. He looked none too pleased being paired with a toddler, Princess of Ingary or no. Valeria was plunging her hand into a little basket she held and throwing showers of rainbow-colored flower petals by the fistful. The King chuckled.

Next came Martha, all flowing blond hair and big gray eyes, and Howl heard Michael gulp. The spray of flowers she clasped was made up of azure delphiniums and purple bellflowers. He noticed her thumbs were twiddling in front of the stems in that, as Michael gushingly referred to it, 'endearing habit' she had.

Then Sophie appeared, and Howl had to remind himself to breathe. He'd seen her working almost nonstop on the dresses both she and Martha were wearing for the past four days, but during that time, he had never considered them as anything beyond the tiresome objects that were keeping his wife from rest and him. Now he saw the outcome on Sophie. It was a floor-length sapphire gown of floaty chiffon, simple yet elegant, with a sash draped around the waist and knotted at the back. Her hair fell in cascades of soft waves around her shoulders, and the only adornment she wore was her wedding ring.

The bridal chorus swelled. From behind the tall hedges, Lettie walked out and the crowd gave a collective gasp. She was a vision in white. Her dark curls contrasted strikingly against her dress and veil, and a single blue hibiscus in full-bloom was tucked by the crown of her head. Howl eyed Ben and he saw his eyes were shining, just as Lettie's were.

The music slowed, and by the time she reached the end of the aisle, it stopped completely. Ben held out his hand to her, and Lettie released one hand from her bouquet and took it. Together, they took a step towards the minister.

"We have come together on this day to bear witness to the eternal binding of two souls."

Howl kept sneaking side-glances at the sisters. He thought how there could never have been a more stunning group of girls to form a bridal party than the three of them. It was an ensemble they'd gathered to create twice now—though if he was being honest, he hadn't even been aware of the younger sisters when he was the groom—and it was one they would form yet again when it was Martha's turn to be the bride.

Though Martha was lovely and blushing bride Lettie was captivating, Howl only had eyes for Sophie, who was positively glowing. He didn't understand it, but somehow she looked more beautiful to him with every passing day, and while it sounded ridiculous, he knew it to be true.

Memories of his own wedding swept over him. He and Sophie hadn't exactly waited a conventionally 'respectable' amount of time to be married either, but if Howl had grown to know and love her as a ninety-year-old woman, and Sophie him when he was heartless and all his flaws were laid bare for her to witness daily, neither of them knew a single reason why they should have had to wait for the happily ever after they knew they could only have with each other.

At the time, Howl, as another Royal Wizard, was offered the palace for his wedding to Sophie as well, but they had chosen to wed in a much smaller ceremony in their field of flowers, which, if he said so himself, was even more magnificent than the palace garden. His heart turned over as he remembered the moment which had bound them together forever, the thrill that ran through him when the minister pronounced them husband and wife, their kiss at the altar, that first night he finally was able to take Sophie into his arms.

"Do you, Lettie Hatter, take _Benjamin_to be your husband? Do you promise to love him, to care for him, to put his happiness before your own, now and forever?"

"I do," her voice was quavering.

"And do you, _Benjamin_ Suliman, take Lettie to be your wife? Do you promise to love her, to care for her, to put her happiness before your own, now and forever?"

Ben smiled. "I do."

"With these hallowed vows, I join you together as husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

Ben lifted Lettie's veil from her face and kissed her ardently, she throwing her arms around his neck.

They were still kissing when the wedding march struck up.

Both of them grinning from ear to ear, they parted and made their way arm in arm up the aisle. The bridal party followed, Edmund bringing Valeria back, and Michael escorting Martha behind them.

Howl put out his elbow for Sophie and she gripped onto him, giving him a radiant smile that made his heart start pounding all over again.

/\/\/\/\/\

"Ladies and gentleman, I would like to introduce to you for the very first time Mr. and Mrs. Suliman!"

Ben and Lettie walked across the floor holding each other while the cheers and applause of their guests thundered around them.

The dining hall looked every bit as extravagantly done up as if it was a wedding celebration for a member of the royal family. Round tables that seated five or six people were scattered around the floor, each laid out with cream-colored cloths and gleaming place settings. The newlyweds sat at their own table in the center of it all.

The King, Sophie observed when he stood from his seat to lead the raising of glasses to toast the new couple, was looking rather more careworn than when she'd seen him last. But while she took in the gray hairs that peppered his mustache and deep-set lines at the corners of his mouth, she could only feel slightly sympathetic. His Majesty and his brother had, in turn, been working Howl and Ben to death over this war. As he was to blame for her husband's many sleepless nights and increasing tendency to overwork himself until he passed out over his workbench, she couldn't help cling to a bit of bitterness and the idea that this was the King's due comeuppance.

Servers started bringing out platters of food and the feast began. The hall was full of chatter and laughter. To one side, a quartette of musicians filled the air with the sound of their instruments, the music floating in and out of the din of voices. Princess Valeria had parted with her shoes and frilly socks somewhere between the garden and the dining room and was proceeding to pad her way through the hall, under tables, and, in one hilarious instant that was heralded by a feminine screech, between someone's legs, as she pursued a loose, yipping puppy that had somehow made its way inside. The luncheon stretched well into the night so that it became a dinner.

At one point amidst merriment of the celebrations, Sophie noticed bubbles were drifting lazily all around the hall, and she had a sneaking suspicion that Howl had everything to do with it. Edmund had forsaken his seat at their table some hours ago, but she could hear him roaring with laughter among a small group of boys he seemed to know from when he lived with his parents. Michael and Martha had been dancing somewhere by the quartette since clearing their plates.

Howl's hand came and covered the one she had lounging in front of her on the table. Sophie turned to look at him, and as she did, she noticed that they were completely by themselves at the table.

"Where did Calcifer go off to?"

"He said he had to get his gift for Ben and Lettie ready."

"I didn't know he'd gotten them anything."

She thought about the present Calcifer had orchestrated for her and Howl at their wedding. During the reception, he'd managed to disappear without drawing attention to his absence, a very impressive feat for a fire demon. Sometime later, a shout and a pointing finger from Michael had brought herself, Howl, and all the guests craning their necks to look straight up. The night sky was full of shooting stars, but it was no ordinary shower. The display lasted longer than any natural occurrence of the type would go on for, gliding back and forth across the heavens in flourishes that looked half-designed. Sophie and Howl had been able to make out a fiery blue twinkle that seemed to be leading the stars in their acrobatics and knew it had to be Calcifer.

Sophie looked back at Howl and could tell he was remembering it too.

From nowhere, Fanny was abruptly standing in front of them, draped in mink and hanging on her husband's arm like he was a trophy she liked to have by her wherever she went. "Sophie, darling! Wasn't it a splendid ceremony?"

"Very," she agreed, trying not to let her voice betray the stiffness that gripped her. "No more than what Lettie rightly deserved." She turned and nodded politely to Sacheverell Smith. "Sir."

"How do you do?" Mr. Smith nodded back and then looked away uninterestedly as if he'd rather be anywhere else.

She must not have been doing as good a job as she thought she was hiding her disquiet at being unexpectedly confronted by her rather manipulative stepmother and her second husband, or at least not from Howl. Sophie could practically feel him raise his hackles. She applied pressure to the hand she was holding to steady him and assure him she was fine.

Fanny resumed like she hadn't been interrupted. "Yes, a marvelous wedding, simply marvelous. To have a daughter honored and considered so _highly_ by the King himself. Do you know, I think the dinnerware they've set out is actual silver and crystal? Spared no expense on our dear Lettie."

Sophie hoped there was no one from the palace, especially the King, nearby to hear Fanny talking.

"And to think, when Martha gets married, the man she finds will be vastly rich and the ceremony will be more illustrious than this. It has to be, she is the third after all!" Fanny went on thoughtlessly. Her eyes wandered away from her daughter as she spoke and lingered on a particular spot in the crowd. Sophie followed her gaze over to where Ben was deep in conversation with the prince. Her new brother-in-law's eyebrows looked like they were raised in concern over what he was hearing.

_Is it something to do with the war?_ she wondered, quickly followed by, _Can't they even give that man some peace on his own wedding day? _

Fanny's voice broke that train of thought. "Prince Justin is still single…"

Now, Sophie was more thankful that Michael and Martha were the ones not around to hear this. It was practically set in stone that those two planned to marry each other as soon as they were able, and Fanny knew of their relationship. She was also incredibly aware of Michael's station in life: orphaned, fortuneless, and apprentice to a wizard. This, of course, meant she discounted Michael entirely of being worthy of Martha, and as if she hadn't already made that clear, she added, "Once her girlish fancy of that boy peters out."

Sophie reined in the retort she longed to shout at her, focusing her attention instead on simultaneously restraining Howl, who was restless beside her.

Without noticing the stir she'd created, Fanny plowed on. "And how are things with you, Sophie? All well with the baby?"

"Yes, thank you." She could have sighed in relief at the change in topic.

Fanny scarcely waited to hear her answer before exclaiming, "I think I see the Duchess of Threll over there! I must ask about visiting with her at her country villa sometime. Ta, Sophie, Howl."

When she was gone, Sophie shuddered like she had swallowed something bitter.

"Couldn't have put it better myself," said Howl.

"She thinks she's doing right by Martha," she offered on Fanny's behalf, though she wasn't sure why. She didn't exactly believe it herself. Though Fanny could be very kind to all her daughters, there were certain things she was just insufferable about.

He snorted. "That's why she never says any of it directly _to_ Martha. I swear, if I catch that woman putting Michael down again, I won't be held accountable for my actions."

"I don't blame you," Sophie said tiredly, "but try to forget her just now, and enjoy the rest of the night."

He glanced at her and his scowl softened. "All right."

From out of the crowd, Martha came loping up to the table with Michael. "I'm about to bring out the cake."

She flounced off again towards the kitchens, and Michael took a seat and drank from his goblet. When he put it down again, he saw that Howl and Sophie were watching him.

"What? Is there something on my face?"

Both of them caught themselves and hastily looked away.

"No," Sophie summoned a smile. "I was just admiring how handsome you look."

His cheeks went red, but he was grinning.

"Let's go get a look at Martha's cake," she said, indicating that they should go over to where Lettie and Ben were standing.

Howl wordlessly helped Sophie up and they crossed the swarming floor to reach the newlyweds' side. Just as they did, Martha rolled out a cart that bore an exquisite cake. It was a red velvet made in six square tiers. Each layer was covered with rich cream cheese frosting and vines that appeared to be made with black strings of licorice spiraled daintily on top, dotted with actual cranberries. Sophie's mouth was practically watering just looking at it.

Lettie hurried over to give Martha a hug and her thanks, Ben just behind her. With everyone gathered round to see, Mr. and Mrs. Suliman ceremonially sliced into the bottom tier of the cake, after which Martha took over and started serving fat wedges of it to the queue of guests that had already started to form.

When everyone had devoured at least one piece of the cake and most had already gone on to their second, a sudden whistle and pop exploded from somewhere outside. Someone screamed in alarm.

Another shrill whine came, ending in a crack. Panic set in. The musicians stopped their playing, not that anyone really noticed since the volume in the hall amplified with the rise of excited voices and shouts. Sophie started weaving among the confusion of people and headed towards the courtyard adjoining the hall to see what was going on.

"Sophie!" she heard Howl calling after her from somewhere in the huddle of people, but she didn't see him.

She kept cutting through the crowd until she reached the terrace. Unlatching the glass doors, she went outside and scanned around her in the darkness. Some of the braver and more curious people followed her out in a steady stream, looking about themselves skittishly.

Sophie started to walk further out onto the lawn to explore what was happening when somebody grabbed her arm in a viselike grip and dragged her backwards. Before she could react in defense, she saw that it was Howl. He was centimeters from her face, looking at her with a mixture of anger and relief.

"Sophie, are you mad? You can't just run off like that. We don't even know what's going—"

The rest of his words were drowned out by another clash which lit up the sky. It was fireworks.

Word spread throughout the party that the sounds weren't from an attack by the Strangians, and soon the guests who had remained in the hall were approaching the courtyard to take in the sight. Lettie and Ben were the foremost among them, looking delighted as each flash illuminated their upturned faces. The sparklers created pinwheel and crossette shapes of all colors, but most were blue.

"Calcifer," Howl merely said.

The musical quartette must have made their way out onto the terrace as well because much closer than before, the hum of a slow cadenza started up. As if it had been planned that way, dancing partners meandered over to pick up where they had left off inside and continued under the moon.

Sophie leaned back into Howl as they watched the show Calcifer was putting on as his present to the bride and groom. She sighed, wondering to herself not for the first time how years ago she could have thought that the fire demon was anything but good.

It seemed the entire party had been moved out into the courtyard. Servers were now circling with glasses of champagne on trays. Princess Valeria was asleep on her father's lap, thumb fixed firmly in her mouth, as the King sat back watching the spectacle with a far-off look on his face. Edmund and the other boys sat on a low wall covered in ivy while he, with no small amount of pride, announced that he actually knew the fire demon who was making the fireworks happen, inspiring awed stares from his companions. Michael and Martha had their backs propped against the palace wall with their heads bent close together, murmuring almost conspiratorially in each other's ears.

Sophie felt Howl twirl her around in his arms to face him. He took up one of her hands in his while he placed the other at the dip of her waist and began to lead them into a slow sort of gliding waltz. Swaying in time with him, she put her other hand just below his collarbone and could feel the beat of his heart against her palm.

* * *

End Author's Notes

I know, a bit too much cuteness, but forgive me. Weddings, even on paper, just bring that out in me. I think Calcifer would give a gift like that, though, one that initially puts the fear of God into people, but ultimately is a good-hearted gesture.

I realize some of you might be eyeing Fanny and thinking _what the hell?_ Let me just say that her behavior is particularly unflattering in this chapter. Here, Fanny tends to resemble herself much more the way she was in the beginning of _Howl's Moving Castle_ when she craftily squirmed her way out of paying Sophie wages. Really, my perspective of her is much closer to Martha's in general. That's not to say that I think Fanny doesn't love all her daughters, but she definitely has her moments where her failings are painfully obvious, and this is one of them. I let the superstition that the youngest of three will do the best in life fuel her on in her attempts to push Martha into things she doesn't want. Also, Fanny's insatiability for riches and finery is very distinct right now, especially since she's surrounded by it. You can be a decent person and act unreasonably at times. If you disagree with how I've handled her character, don't be afraid to say so!


	7. Which Takes an Unexpected Turn

Author's Notes

It's just been one of those days.

* * *

**Chapter 7, Which Takes an Unexpected Turn**

* * *

Howl rolled over and inhaled deeply as sleep slowly receded from him. Sophie shifted too, and in a moment they were both fully awake.

"'Morning."

He kissed her on her warm cheek, running his fingers across her stomach as he did. The pregnancy was closing in on its third month, and Sophie's belly had become hard. A small curve was definitely starting to surface.

"And good morning to you," he murmured, addressing that bump and tenderly pressing his lips to the bare skin there.

He felt Sophie's hands tangle in his hair and rose to be eye-level with her again. She lifted her head to kiss him.

"Time to get up," she said against his mouth.

"Don't want to," Howl groused playfully. He snatched up the quilt and threw it over both of their heads.

"Howl…" Sophie reproved, trying to sound stern but failing.

"Uh-uh. We're staying here all day." He enclosed her in his arms to keep her from doing otherwise.

"And what about the flower shop?"

"Bother the flower shop."

She didn't even try to struggle. Instead she said evenly, "Well, all right, but I guess that means no gypsy toast for breakfast."

Howl paused. "Damn you're good," and he relinquished his hold.

He watched as she slunk out of bed, went over to the closet where she pulled out a ruby-colored dress, and slipped it on. When she had done, she peered at him deviously over her shoulder.

"You've only just realized that?"

Howl flopped back onto the pillows, giving a shout of laughter as she walked out of the room.

/\/\/\/\/\

"I _knew_ it was the blacksmith who kidnapped her!" Calcifer yelled triumphantly.

It was late in the evening, and Sophie was just closing the book she'd been reading aloud in the common room. It was a mystery novel, and when she recited the conclusion, Calcifer was ecstatic to learn that he'd rightly guessed the culprit behind Lady Rhea's disappearance. It was one of his favorite ways to pass the time when he didn't feel like wandering far from the hearth, but unfortunately, he could never read to himself because there was always the danger of him burning the book up. He'd learned that the hard way on three separate occasions.

"Shady sort of bloke," the fire demon was saying. "I ask you, what kind of blacksmith carries around an embroidered handkerchief in his pocket?"

"The very stupid kind, no doubt," Howl said absently.

A knock from the front door made them all jump.

"It's the Kingsbury door," said Calcifer.

Sophie got up from the sofa and went to turn the knob to the orange section of the dial. "Who could it be at this hour?"

Behind her, Howl got to his feet.

"Lettie!"

She was standing on the doorstep with an abstracted air about her. Sophie stepped aside to let her inside the castle.

"Sophie, thank goodness. I'm not sure what to—" She froze at the sight of Howl and Calcifer looking at her.

Sophie studied her sister and felt apprehension gnaw at her stomach. What could she have to say that she wouldn't go on about in front of the others?

"Er…Calcifer," said Howl swiftly, "it's time for us to be leaving for that appointment we have to see to Clark Gunner's magpie problem. Sophie, we should be back…in about an hour?" His eyes seemed to be asking her if that was enough time.

She shot him a grateful look for his comprehension that Lettie needed to be alone with her and his quick-thinking to invent a reason to go. "Yes, all right."

He set out by the Market Chipping door. Calcifer went drifting alongside him while giving Lettie, who was carefully staring at her knotted fingers, a mystified glance. The door snapped shut.

"Okay, Lettie, come sit and tell me—" started Sophie.

"I think I'm pregnant."

"…_what_?"

"But I can't be," Lettie was babbling, "it's too soon. I've only been married for four weeks. I'm still sending out the thank you notes, for goodness' sake! This is all happening too fast."

Sophie forced herself to speak. "Lettie, just hold on and breathe a moment." Carefully, she took her sister by the arm and led her to the sofa. "I'm making tea. Just sit tight there. I'll be back in an instant."

When she returned holding two cups and the kettle, Lettie was staring blankly into the empty grate. Sophie lit a fire and set the pot over the flames.

"I've missed my courses."

She nodded slowly. "Okay. It may be nothing, but you may be right. It's not impossible. You might be pregnant."

Lettie's head dropped into her hands.

"If you are, it's nothing to be upset over!" She set the teacups on the coffee table and rubbed her sister's back.

"It's too soon, it's much too soon," she kept chanting, like it was a mantra.

"Listen, Lettie, listen! Your being pregnant is possible, yes, but it's by no means definite. Have you been feeling lightheaded?"

"No."

"Nauseous?"

"No."

"Okay. So…so how about this? Wait until next month to be certain about this one way or the other. Until then, we can keep this between us if you like."

Lettie raised her head. She seemed to be mulling over what she had said. Taking advantage of the opportunity, Sophie poured the tea into a cup and pushed it into her sister's hands, making her drink some to help soothe her nerves. By the time Lettie had drained the cup, she decided.

"I'll do that. I'll wait to be sure."

"Okay," said Sophie. She was relieved to see some of the color returning to her sister's face. "Does Ben know you've left and where you are?"

"I told him I was coming to visit to see how you were." Lettie turned to look Sophie in the face for almost the first time since she arrived. Her expression reflected that she was still lost in a state of bewilderment. "How are you, by the way?"

Sophie had to fight an ill-timed urge to laugh. "Much better now that I know you aren't hurt or sick."

Lettie got up from the sofa.

"D'you want me to walk with you?"

"No," she shook her head. "It's better if I walk alone to clear my head for when I see Ben."

/\/\/\/\/\

In the weeks that followed Lettie's strange call to the castle, neither Howl nor Calcifer asked Sophie about it. For once, they seemed to understand that since she didn't bring it up, the matter was private.

Sophie was hard at work in the flower shop once again, all the regular customers returning full-sail once they saw that she'd reopened from her spontaneous vacation.

She was nearing the finish of her fourth month, and slowly, her belly was swelling. Howl had been helping her more frequently than he used to, clearly under the impression that she couldn't tend to everything in her condition. When he couldn't stay himself, at the very least he insisted that Edmund or Michael always be in the castle to lend a hand if she needed it. At first, she had teased him for being overly worrisome, but she soon found that her usual routine at the shop tired her out much more quickly than it once had. On the rare occasion that she did feel unequal to what had to be done, she was thankful for his attention to it.

It was unusually busy for an autumn morning today. Men were buying their sweethearts roses by the dozen. Elderly grandmothers sought carnations to adorn straw hats and buttonholes. Children came in with pence pieces to buy lone daffodils or sweet pea flowers for their mothers.

In a passing lull, Sophie walked about the shop with a watering can in her hands, making mental note of what she would have to restock for the next morning.

"Perk up," she told some sorry-looking asters that had been sitting untouched in their window-box for the better part of the week. She sprinkled water over the lot and conversationally advised them, "Straighten up a bit and you're bound to be noticed."

After that, it seemed that every customer who entered the shop had a particularly keen need for asters the second they caught sight of them. By late afternoon, she was sold out and the window-box lay vacant of anything but a bit of soil and water, much to the disappointment of half of her clientele. She told them to come back again tomorrow when she had brought in a fresh stash.

Another respite from business came just before closing time, so Sophie went into the back room to sit at the bench and rest. At this rate, she was sure that she _would_ need either Michael or Edmund permanently next to her before the next nine months were out.

The chime of the bell signaled that someone had entered the shop. She got back to her feet, loath to leave even the hard seat that the bench offered, and walked back to the front.

"Can I help—?"

It was Howl. He turned from smelling a tiger lily. "Yes, you can. I'd like my wife to close up shop just a bit early, if you please. I'll take her to go."

Sophie smirked. "Sorry, sir, but she has to tidy up in here before she can even think to leave or be available. I can deliver her sometime after five when her shift has ended."

"No, that won't do."

Before she could say anything else, he scooped her up and was bearing her out the door. He carried her across the yard and into the castle.

"Michael, can you see to closing up the flower shop? Sophie's exhausted."

"Sure thing!" came Michael's voice from somewhere above them.

Howl shrugged complacently at her. "All taken care of. And…" From thin air, he pulled out the tiger lily and handed it to Sophie.

She took it with a wry look and twirled the stem between her fingers. "I hope you paid for this."

He responded to that by kissing her soundly, sending a thrill all through her. She writhed in his arms a bit so she could get down to her feet. Clinging to his hand, she went to the front door, turned the knob to purple, and drew him out into the garden with her.

After a full day of being surrounded by nothing but flowers, it would have been very easy for Sophie to want escape from anything to do with them once out of the shop. But that was not the case, and it was mostly because she had never been anything but happy when it came to dealing with the stuff. She could never grow tired of her flowers, not like what had happened with the hats she toiled over thanklessly for Fanny.

Howl and Sophie rambled through the lush meadow until they reached the edge of the water. Once there, she pulled him down to sit beside her on the ground. He held her close and she pillowed her head on his shoulder. Though they started by watching the garnet clouds drift across the setting sun, very soon they picked up where they had left off in the castle, sinking to lay back on the grass, lost in their self-made tangle of straining arms and fiery kisses.

/\/\/\/\/\

A few days later, Sophie was carrying an armload of blossoms through the castle yard towards the shop. When she swung open the door, she found Howl already inside and arranging sprays into clay pots.

"Are you staying here today?" she asked him as she dumped her load onto the counter and started sorting out the different types she'd gathered.

Howl finished what he was doing and joined her in divvying up the fresh-cut flowers. "I thought I would. The boys are concentrating on a tricky upper-level spell and they need to focus on it completely."

To him, this plainly meant that there was no other possible choice but to come in and help her out himself.

Sophie smiled to herself. He really was getting ridiculously protective, but she didn't mind so much. It was times like this that she felt for her to love him any more than she did would be impossible. She took up a bulrush from the table and playfully tickled Howl with it under his chin.

A sudden banging at the shop door startled her, each thud making the bell jangle discordantly. It was still before hours, but Howl walked over to see who this customer was that couldn't wait another hour until they opened.

"Lettie," she heard him say with some surprise. "Come in."

At once, Sophie knew what her sister was doing here. Why she was coming from the Market Chipping side of the castle was another question altogether, but that was beside the point. Lettie had probably been with Martha for some reason and was trying the shop with the idea that she would avoid everyone else and catch Sophie alone. Sophie took her apron off and tossed it onto the stool near the counter, rushing over to the door. Lettie looked slightly calmer than when she'd come to the castle that evening a month ago, but she wasn't exactly composed either.

"Howl," said Sophie, "I've just remembered that we're out of geraniums. Could you go collect some for me?"

She very well knew he had just watered a whole two boxes of geraniums, but without a word of opposition, he flicked her a look and left the shop quietly by the yard door.

"Well?" she asked without preamble.

Lettie looked at her sister restively. "Nothing. I have nothing. I really am pregnant." Her voice came in a bare whisper, "What am I to do now?"

"You're going to go and tell your husband that you're having a baby." Sophie grabbed Lettie's face in her hands. "Lettie—you're having a baby!"

"Am I ready for this, Sophie?"

"At least as ready as I am."

Lettie let out a noise that sounded halfway between a whimper and a weak giggle. Sophie hugged her then, laughter bubbling from her.

"Now, go. Go and tell Ben. And for the love of all that is good, _smile_, Lettie! Everything is going to be all right."

When Lettie exited the flower shop, Sophie took a deep breath and went out to find Howl. He was wandering aimlessly under the tall, gnarled willow tree in the yard to pass the time. She parted the draping branches to reach him.

Howl saw her and started talking at once. "I promised myself I wouldn't pry since you weren't saying anything, but really Sophie, _what_ is going on? Is Lettie in some kind of trouble?"

His brow was furrowed and he watched her carefully while she attempted to figure out just how to begin.

"You're never going to guess…"

* * *

End Author's Notes

I suppose it's just been one of those days for Lettie too. Or, rather, one of those months. At least Martha is well on her way to getting her wish of being surrounded by loads of babies. They're just not hers yet.


	8. In Which There are More Preparations

Author's Notes 

I've been rather sick for the past week, so if you find any crazy typos or mistakes, please don't be shy to let me know.

Just to remind everyone, after this, there are only the penultimate and final chapters left.

* * *

**Chapter 8, In Which There are More Preparations**

* * *

Market Chipping was mobbed as Sophie pressed through to make her purchases at the butcher's stall and the grocer's booth. The blustery October weather did nothing to dissuade people from swarming the streets, but it did chill her through in spite of her thick cloak.

When she arrived home, Calcifer was crackling contentedly in the hearth, and Sophie held her icy hands up to him to warm them.

"You've just missed Martha," he told her. "She passed through on her way up to Kingsbury. She's gone to see how Lettie's faring."

She had just been about to remove her cloak, but had a change of mind as he spoke. "Did she? Then I think I'm going to go as well. If the boys come looking for lunch, can you tell them there's some beef and parsnip stew ready-made? They just need to warm it up."

"And where, pray tell, would they be doing _that_?" Calcifer simmered haughtily.

"You'll just have to scoot over. The matches are in the left sideboard by the sink."

"You want them to light some silly fraud in _my _grate?"

Sophie rolled her eyes as he launched into his usual contradictory tirade. "I'm not the one you should be telling this to, Calcifer. I'll be back this evening."

She stepped out into the orange portal.

/\/\/\/\/\

Sophie passed among the winding homes and shops. Once she came to a certain point, however, she realized that she'd already passed the townhouse with the magenta shutters she was coming to now. Twice.

She cursed. She always got lost in Kingsbury. She doubted the day would ever come when she didn't take a wrong turn or wind up at a dead end walking through the capital. It normally wasn't much of a nuisance, but the bracing wind that blew from the Waste was biting. Drawing her cloak more tightly around her shoulders, she paced on.

It must have taken her an hour longer than it should have when she finally pulled the bell at Ben and Lettie's.

Martha answered the door and at once bundled her inside. "You look half-frozen!" she exclaimed.

"I got lost," said Sophie sheepishly, teeth chattering.

Her sister snorted as she hauled her into the parlor where there was a fire burning.

Lettie was sitting on the sofa, patching up a pair of trousers. "Sophie, what are you doing here?" she sounded pleased, but her eyebrows knitted together when she saw Sophie's clicking teeth. "Have you been outside long?"

"She got lost," Martha answered for her. "_Again_." Grabbing a ceramic mug full of something hot, she handed it to Sophie. "Here, drink that. I hadn't touched it yet. I'll go make myself another."

Sophie took a sip. It was hot chocolate, thick and creamy.

Lettie put her sewing aside. "Howl is going to get worked up over this."

She put down her mug and cast off her cloak, already feeling the effects of the fire and the hot chocolate as her shaking gradually subsided. "I'll be fine by the time I get home. I don't plan on letting the blasted side streets confuse me again."

Martha rejoined her sisters. "Because you intended to do it the first time around," she stung.

"Shuddup," Sophie told her, chuckling at herself right along with Martha. "So how are you, Lettie?"

"A bit tired, but other than that, I'm doing well. The morning sickness is finally starting to ease up, thank goodness."

"Just so you girls know," said Martha between mouthfuls of hot chocolate, "I expect a nephew and a niece. I don't rightly care which of you has which, the pair of you can sort that out between yourselves, but I will be aunt to a boy _and_ a girl."

Lettie laughed outright while Sophie sarcastically remarked, "We'll get right on that."

They spent the rest of the afternoon talking about nothing in particular, just happy to be in each other's company. Sophie stood to leave when the sky outside bruised to an indigo hue, but Martha stayed behind to help Lettie get a start on dinner.

The youngest sister felt compelled to mockingly shout directions out the front door while Sophie crossed the square.

As she made her way back down the street of shops, a window display caught her eye. She tentatively approached to get a better look. She was standing outside of the toymaker's place, and in the glass case were stuffed animals of all shapes and sizes.

Before she knew what she was about, Sophie found herself pushing open the door to the shop. It was a small but charming store, bursting with colors.

"Good ev'nin', miss," an elderly, mustached shopkeeper greeted her from behind the counter. He went on carving the small ocarina in his hands.

"Good evening," she nodded back.

She eyed the shelves lined with wooden trains, rubber balls, and building blocks. Propped up on a table, there was a doll which looked exactly like one she herself had as a girl, right down to the amber, lace-trimmed frock. It had been passed on to Lettie and then later to Martha. Seeing its twin, she wondered now just what had happened to her favorite childhood plaything.

Sophie circled the shop and came back to the window display of stuffed animals. She singled out from among them a beautiful little brown teddy bear, taking it in her hands and fondly tracing her forefinger over the pink stitching of its mouth.

She suddenly longed to buy it. She could get something for her baby even if she wouldn't see them for another four months, couldn't she? The teddy would look darling cuddled up to a baby girl of about the same size. And boys liked stuffed animals too, didn't they?

"I'll take this, please."

/\/\/\/\/\

Howl came back to the castle to find Calcifer alone.

It had been a long, trying day of war meetings and dubious talk of potential treaties with Ben, the King, Prince Justin, and a slew of cavalier political types at the palace. Neither he nor the boys had been home for lunch, and according to Calcifer, Sophie was off at Lettie's.

He set to warming up the stew Sophie had made for dinner instead, prodding the fire demon from his grate in spite of his protests.

She returned just as the pot was reaching a boil and came over to make sure the stew was coming along all right. When she was close enough, Howl stooped down to brush his lips against the top of her head. His torso grazed against Sophie's round stomach as he did, but there was another bulge he felt under her cloak, something small and rather squashy. He pulled back and looked down at the spot questioningly.

Sophie caught his curious gaze, and almost shyly, she withdrew a teddy bear out from under her cloak. Howl looked at the bear, his head tilting to the side as he did.

"A bit old to be toting plush toys about town, aren't you, Sophie?" came from Calcifer.

She looked around to deliver him a withering stare, but she seemed self-conscious all the same as a heated blush crept over her cheeks. "I…I bought it for the baby."

Howl wanted to hug her to him right then, and would have acted on it had Calcifer not spoken up.

"That's very sweet, Sophie. I was only ribbing, you know."

Her face still looked somewhat rosy when she turned back to Howl, as if she had done something daft. He couldn't think why she would be embarrassed, but a warmth bloomed in his chest at the sight of her. How Sophie thought she wouldn't make a good mother was beyond him.

"I'm going to go put this away," she mumbled.

Howl was about to follow, but the door from Kingsbury opened again, letting in his apprentices, both of whom looked rather muddy and frustrated. Upon seeing him, they started railing about the supposedly impossible task he'd set them in his directions to find hummingbird feathers.

"The stupid things are too fast for us to even keep up with, let alone catch one!" Michael complained while Edmund nodded vigorously at his side.

Howl held up his hand to stop him from continuing. "You haven't done the potion correctly if you can't capture a hummingbird."

"How can we have done the potion at all?" said Edmund in confusion. "We haven't been able to get any feathers for the Freezing Elixir yet, that's what we're trying to tell you."

Howl stared for a split-second before he began to laugh. "Boys, you're supposed to bring me back the hummingbird feathers _after _you've concocted and given a go with the Freezing Elixir—as proof that it worked, not as an ingredient for it."

Michael and Edmund looked floored as this detail dawned on them, which made Howl laugh harder still as he pictured the pair of them sprinting over the hills of Upper Folding as fast as their legs could carry them in an attempt to capture hummingbirds. His apprentices, however, looked less than amused as he wiped tears from his eyes. By the time he had an opening to go to Sophie, she was coming back downstairs.

The stew hit the spot on this chilled day, and even the boys seemed revived by the comfort offered from Sophie's cooking. They all spoke spiritedly as they ate.

While Sophie talked with Edmund, Howl watched her. She appeared to be fine, and there was no sign of the chagrin she'd seemed to be feeling before, but the scene had put him to thinking just the same. He wanted to do something for the baby too, and he had been racking his brain for what that something was. It was as they were clearing the dishes from the table that it came to him.

He knew exactly what to do.

/\/\/\/\/\

"What's this all about?" said Sophie, nonplussed.

It was a week later, and Howl was eagerly ushering her to the second floor of the castle a little way down the hall from where their bedroom was. He had all but dragged her up here from the flower shop after closing.

"Just stand there," he told her enigmatically.

He turned from her and cracked open the door in front of him only enough to peek inside himself. Everything looked ready. He couldn't wait to see what she thought of all the work he put into this.

"Ready?"

He pushed open the door and stood aside.

Sophie took a few dazed steps into the room and then stilled.

Howl had converted one of the spare rooms into a nursery. The once dingy walls were done up with a caramel paint, the only truly gender-neutral color he could think of. A smattering of stars and a moon were stenciled onto the midnight blue ceiling, and they were glowing softly in the semidarkness of the room. Towards the back corner by the window-seat sat a miniscule wardrobe, and on the opposite side was a wooden rocking horse. In the center of the room was a red-oak crib lined with linen sheets, a crocheted coverlet draped over the railing. The bear that Sophie had bought was sitting artlessly inside of it. She took another couple of steps inside and stopped by the crib, stroking the blanket.

"What do you think?" he asked.

She looked into his face. "Howl, this is amazing. Whenever did you have the time to put this together?"

He grinned. "Here and there. I used a couple spells to make a few things go smoother—"

As she found out later from everyone but Howl, this was an understatement. The crib would still only be a heap of wood and bolts right now had he not magically assisted the wearisome process along. How anyone was expected to follow those inane instructions…

"—and Calcifer helped." He gestured to the ceiling. "That was his idea."

Sophie tilted up her chin, gave Howl a thoughtful look, and kissed him. "I love it. I really do."

Excitedly, he strode over to the wardrobe and opened its doors. "You have to see these." He pulled out a neatly folded bodysuit, the tiniest piece of clothing he'd ever seen. It was shorter than the length of his wrist to his elbow.

"_Oh_!" Howl heard Sophie say rather faintly from behind him.

He turned round to look at her with a proud smile, thinking she had noticed the gilded hairbrush that could easily fit whole in his palm or the musical mobile hanging over the crib, which he'd especially gone and dug up in Wales because it played "Sosban Fach."

Instead, she was standing frozen as she clutched her stomach, staring down at it with a stunned expression.

Howl felt his face drain of color and the smile crashed off his lips. "Sophie, what is it?"

She was panting a little, her chest rising and falling along with her breath. "I—I felt—"

His mind raced to comprehend what she was trying to say. "You don't mean…? You can't be going into labor yet!" There was a slightly hysterical edge to his tone as he scrambled over to her.

"No, Howl, it's—" she shook her head, seemingly unable to go on speaking. Instead, she snatched his wrist and placed his hand on her stomach, covering it with her own trembling one as she held them to a particular spot.

Nothing was happening. He looked expectantly from Sophie's flushed face back to their hands resting on her belly, but there was nothing. Was she disoriented? Delusional? Feverish? Come to think of it, when he did look at her more carefully, her eyes did look glassy.

And then he felt it.

There was the softest pressure bumping up against his palm. It started and then just as quickly stopped before coming again. His eyes were wide with astonishment when he met Sophie's gaze.

She was smiling dazzlingly. "Do you feel that? The baby's kicking. It's the first time…" She stopped, too overcome.

He understood because he couldn't have spoken in that moment if he tried. From the day Sophie told him they were having a baby, he'd been thinking about how they created this whole other life, knowing this person was coming without ever fully grasping it. But the gentle flutter touching his hand changed everything. That abstract promise of the future was shattered with a connection to what was _now_.

Howl could feel his child inside Sophie, real and alive and theirs, and his heart was so full, he felt like it was swelling.

/\/\/\/\/\

After dinner that night, Sophie and Howl sat entwined on the sofa before Calcifer's hearth. She was curled against his chest, lost in her thoughts. One of his arms was around her shoulders while the other hovered over her belly, his hand dreamily drawing circles on her stomach in a way that made her shiver. He'd been doing that repeatedly, trying to see if he could get the baby to respond to his touch.

That moment in the nursery when she felt the baby kick within her for the first time was…indescribable. There was no sensation she'd ever felt that was close enough to compare it to. Flares of raw emotion, half-formed thoughts, were all she had. More than anything, the experience had made something clear to Sophie, something she didn't see how she could have missed until now. There existed a bond linking her to this baby that she'd scarcely even been aware of before, but she knew it had been there all along.

Although she had yet to see them, Sophie was certain she would move heaven and earth for her child. It made her realize that even if she had her doubts about being ready to be a mother, she wanted it more than anything and would damn well do her very best. And maybe that was enough.

"You know," came Howl's voice, breaking into her train of thought, "we have to pick a name."

"It's a bit early yet, don't you think? We've still got four whole months."

"We have to _agree_ on a name," he emphasized.

A puff of smoke shot from Calcifer's nostrils as he gave a snort.

"Point taken. What were you thinking?"

"For a girl, Glenda."

"Glenda," Sophie echoed like she was trying it out. He nodded, and she settled her head more comfortably against him. "No."

"No? You can't just say no! Why? What's wrong with it?"

"It just…doesn't seem to fit."

"All right," Howl challenged, "let's hear one of yours then."

She considered before saying anything. "How about Lizzie?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"It just 'doesn't fit,'" he shrugged blithely.

"How about Calcifer?" piped the fire demon while she gave Howl a scornful look.

She deigned to send the tail end of that same look to Calcifer, and then demanded of her husband, "Okay, your turn."

"Hugh?"

Sophie's snicker was answer enough. "Brighton."

"No. "

"Calcifer?"

"Robyn."

"Definitely not. Hydd."

"Oh! I know: _Calcifer_."

"Hide what?" Sophie inquired, puzzled.

"Never mind," muttered Howl.

"Gideon."

"No child of mine is going to be called Gideon," he said disgustedly like he was mandating an edict.

"I've really got it, you guys—"

Sophie turned on the grate. "Suggest 'Calcifer' again and I'll get a bucket of water, so help me."

There was no sound but the snap of burning wood.

"Aren't you glad we started this now?" said Howl almost gleefully.

"Well, we're certainly getting nothing decided tonight. It's late."

Taking that as his cue, he got to his feet and offered his hand to help Sophie up. She willingly took it; getting out of a seat had become quite the predicament with the hindrance of her protruding stomach.

In spite of what Sophie had said, when the two of them climbed between the sheets, she and Howl picked up right where they left off downstairs. They went on whispering names to each other and wrinkling their noses in the dark at the other's suggestions until sleep claimed them.

* * *

End Author's Notes

I hope no one is offended by the scene where Sophie and Howl are considering what to call the baby. I actually quite like the names they are bantering over and in no way actually think they are terrible.

Some of you have commented that the sweetness factor is getting a little overwhelming in the story. Sorry about that. I think I'm overcompensating for later.

Sophie getting lost in Kingsbury is, more than anything else, only a bit of foreshadowing for what happens in _Castle in the Air_.


	9. Which Takes Place at Christmas

Author's Notes

Things I write about _way_ too much:

1. Babies  
2. Christmas

* * *

**Chapter 9, Which Takes Place at Christmas**

* * *

With only a week to go until Christmas, Michael and Edmund bundled themselves up in coats and scarves and went to the edge of the Waste armed with axes and sawing spells to get a fir tree for the castle.

Nearly two hours after they left on this little expedition—thirty minutes into which Sophie had started to worry that maybe they chopped off limbs instead—the boys came back, heaving a beautiful seven-foot tree behind them. Their clothes were dirty and torn in some spots, which suggested their aim was wanting, but the pair of them looked so pleased with themselves over the triumph that she didn't voice her concerns even when she saw the shallow cut on Edmund's chin.

The boys had a hard time of it when it came to getting the tree erected in its stand, but when the deed was finally done, Sophie brought over a footstool to raise herself in order to reach the higher branches for decorating.

"Michael, can you hand me that—_ah_!"

Something fuzzy and warm brushed against her palm. Startled, she retracted her hand so quickly that she lost her balance and began to tip backwards, unable to keep her footing.

Just as she slipped off the stool, a pair of hands caught her. Michael staggered under the full weight of a seven-month-pregnant Sophie, barely staying upright along with her after rushing to throw himself beneath her. In a flash, Edmund ran to take her hand and pull her straight again.

"Thank you," Sophie panted, unable to believe what had just narrowly been avoided. It happened so quickly, she barely registered it before it was over.

Michael was breathing rather hard too. "Sophie, do us a favor? Stay put on the ground and leave the upper half of the tree to me and Edmund before Howl kills us."

"Deal," she said with a shaky laugh.

"Why did you fall anyway?" Edmund gave her a quizzical look.

Sophie had almost forgotten. "Oh! There's something in the tree! It touched my hand and I pulled back. It's some sort of animal, but I didn't get a good look."

They all turned to stare at the top of the tree. Michael righted the toppled stool and carefully climbed it to get a better look. Parting some of the boughs, he peeked tentatively between them. There was an explosion of chittering.

"It's chipmunks!"

"Chipmunk_s_? As in more than one?"

"There's two of them. They don't seem too pleased."

"Well, I should think not," she said. "We're using their home for trimming."

"What do we do with them?" asked Michael, getting back on the floor.

"I suppose we'll have to catch them and bring them outside somehow."

"We can't!"

Michael and Sophie jerked their heads away from the tree to face Edmund, from whom the shout had come. He was looking inexplicably upset.

"Edmund," she gazed at him in surprise, "they're wild animals. They'll be all right."

"We took their home," he countered. "What are they going to do? We can't just ditch them."

She was about to point out that there were thousands of other trees the chipmunks could pick from, but his comment struck her as rather odd. Studying Edmund, Sophie could see how dismayed he really was. She flicked her eyes to Michael, who merely shrugged.

"All right," she said eventually. "They can stay for now."

Edmund nodded, looking satisfied but still not entirely calm. Something was clearly bothering him, and Sophie was willing to bet it had nothing to do with chipmunks. She decided to wait to ask him in private, that way he wouldn't be reluctant to talk in front of Michael.

The three of them went on to decorate the tree in near silence, and in no time, tinsel and shiny baubles covered every branch.

When they finished, Michael decided to visit Martha. He invited Edmund to come along, but he declined, promptly retreating upstairs to his room. Sophie considered going after him, but decided against it. He undoubtedly needed a few moments alone. Instead, she settled onto the couch to mend a pair of her stockings that had gotten in a bad way.

It was not too long after that when Howl and Calcifer came into the castle by the Kingsbury door. They'd been at Ben's, searching yet again for the threat that wind had warned them of all those months ago. By the looks on their faces, she could tell it had been every bit as unsuccessful as every other hunt they had done.

As Howl stomped the wet from his boots, Calcifer came whizzing inside to flee the brutally icy wind that had kicked up. The Christmas tree was blocking a direct path from the door to the hearth, and as the fire demon skirted around this obstacle, Sophie could see him eyeing the tree with obvious skepticism.

"I will never understand how chopping down a tree and dragging it into the living room became a holiday tradition. It seems more the kind of thing Howl would do after coming home drunk from Wales."

"Oh, come now, you sour old fraud," Howl said airily, "you have to admit, the general effect is very charming. Although…" he tilted his head, studying the tree critically, "it does seem to be missing something."

He circled the tree while Sophie looked on. After making his rounds twice, Howl snapped his fingers in sudden inspiration. Or at least, that's why she thought he had. The moment his fingers clicked, tiny bright pricks glowed to life in sprinkles about the tree. They winked softly every now and then, looking for all the world like fairy lights.

"That's better," he said with a self-satisfied edge to his voice.

Almost immediately after the lights appeared, a furious squeaking started up from the depths of the tree. Howl did a double-take, but it was Calcifer who rose back up out of the grate to get as close to the tree as he dared without setting it on fire. He peered charily into the mass of pine needles.

"Er, Sophie?"

"Mm?" Sophie responded, not taking her eyes off her stockings. She pretended to not have noticed how their unofficial guests had announced their presence and expressed their displeasure at Howl's self-appointed improvements of the tree.

"There's a rather indignant pair of chipmunks in your Christmas tree."

"I know," was all she answered, offering no explanation.

Howl raised an eyebrow, but said nothing as he sat down beside her on the sofa and propped his feet up on the hearth. Calcifer looked at her, then back at the tree before floating to settle in the fireplace.

As he sank onto the logs, Sophie swore she heard him mutter under his breath, "Humans."

/\/\/\/\/\

The day before Christmas Eve, a letter came from Fanny. It was sent to the moving castle, but in it she addressed all three of her daughters.

The Smiths had been invited to the Duchess of Threll's villa for the holidays, and they simply couldn't pass up the opportunity. Sophie couldn't help but wonder how this _invitation_ had in fact come about, remembering with no small amount of embarrassment Fanny elbowing her way over to the duchess at Lettie's wedding. The rest of the letter was brief, and she wrote that she hoped they wouldn't be terribly upset with her, to have a wonderful Christmas, kisses.

Sophie at once felt relieved and perplexed. On the one hand, she was rather glad that she wouldn't have to deal with Mr. Smith; he always made her feel uncomfortable. All the same, Fanny was her stepmother. Wouldn't it stand to reason that she would _want_ to spend Christmas with her children?

As she thought this, Sophie suddenly felt like she'd been hit with a ton of bricks. How could she have been so stupid?

Carelessly dropping the letter on the floor, she scuttled over to the stairs and started climbing them as fast as her pregnant belly would allow. On the second floor, she headed straight for Edmund's room, gave a low knock, and walked inside.

Edmund was slumped against the headboard of his bed, looking gloomy, as he had been through the whole week. He jumped when Sophie suddenly barged into his room and quickly sat up.

"Sophie, what—?"

"Edmund," she spoke over him, sitting next to him on his bed as she did, "have your parents said anything to you about the holidays?"

His mouth fell open slightly, but he didn't say anything. Sophie went right on talking so she didn't have to make him admit aloud that his parents had, in fact, not bothered to get in touch with him for plans for Christmas. They hadn't, she knew they hadn't.

"Because I was thinking that they could come over here, if you like, and we could all celebrate together. They'd be more than—"

"My parents aren't here."

The catch in his throat was not anywhere near lost on Sophie, and it very nearly broke her heart.

"Where are they?"

"They went vacationing in High Norland last week."

She almost didn't want to ask, but she had to know. Trying to word it as delicately as possible, she started, "Did you not want to go with them, or…?"

"They didn't even tell me," Edmund said miserably. A blush was creeping over his neck and cheeks, as if _he_ had something to be embarrassed about. "I found out they were gone from one of the servants when I went to visit and they weren't there." A single tear wormed its way from the corner of his eye and he looked horrified with himself as he tried to scrub it away without her noticing.

Meanwhile, Sophie was struggling very hard to clamp down on the urge to she had to scream. This explained Edmund's overreaction to removing the chipmunks in their Christmas tree. It was the very definition of displacement.

_We can't just ditch them._

She knew the Cresses were terrible parents, but they had gone too far. How dare they leave their son without a word, especially during the holidays?

Sophie groped to take one of Edmund's hands up and, in a tone that to her credit only slightly wavered with the rage she was grappling with, said gently, "Edmund, we're your family now too. _We _want you here."

With difficulty, she held back the condemnations of his mother and father because it wasn't right to criticize his parents to his face. But that didn't mean she couldn't think them and feel them to be true in every fiber she possessed in her body.

Edmund blinked furiously for a few seconds. Then, without warning, he threw himself at her, hugging her as tightly as he dared without squishing her stomach, and she gripped him just as fiercely.

It was all Sophie could do not to cry bitterly, and when she left him a few minutes later, she made her way to her own room to give way to the inclination. If she didn't, she wouldn't be able to function properly for the rest of the day. While she liked to blame her emotional state on crazy hormones from her pregnancy, on some level she knew that she would have cried over the unfairness of Edmund's situation no matter what state she was in.

Reaching the haven of her bedroom, Sophie blindly opened the door and shut it with her back pressed up against the wood paneling, tears already blurring her vision. She covered her face in her hands and wept vehemently.

Hands brushed back strands of hair and tenderly encircled her wrists to take them away from her face. Howl was in front of her, looking at her searchingly. Not even attempting to bring herself under control, Sophie latched onto his chest and cried into his shirt, making it damp in next to no time. Instead of bombarding her with anxious questions as she knew he must have been dying to, he held her in silence, letting her work out everything she had to and talk in her own time.

It was true that some days Sophie just didn't know how she put up with Howl. But then, there were moments like this where she didn't know how Howl could put up with her.

/\/\/\/\/\

It was the eve before Christmas, and all of Ingary was blanketed in snow. All the dallying shoppers had gone home to be with loved ones at last, and there was not a soul to be seen out and about. The only signs of life came from the chimneys which billowed smoke and the faint, yellow lights that shone out from between the curtained windows of every house, catching on the snow and ice in pretty shimmerings that went unobserved. The entire country was like a painting, and just as peaceful.

The same could not be said for the inside of the moving castle.

"Sophie, can you crush those hazelnuts on the counter?"

"I did it two hours ago, Martha! What now?"

Martha used the back of her wrist to impatiently sweep away a hank of hair that had come loose and was hanging over her eyes. "Did anyone start on the crusts for the mince pies?"

Sophie used her apron to wipe her hands. "I'll have to check with Lettie."

She weaved around the sacks of flour and sugar, past the pile of potato skins Michael was peeling, over the basket of radishes that was sitting in the middle of the floor, ducking under the archway, where garlands of holly were draped so low they were in danger of strangling passersby, and into the common room.

Things were no less hectic in this part of the castle.

Lettie was waddling around the table setting up for dinner with the newly polished china, Edmund running right behind her to help when she couldn't quite reach a glass or if she dropped a napkin and couldn't bend down to retrieve it because of her own expanding middle. Ben was manning the grate, which was Calcifer-free. In his place, several small fires were simmering under bubbling pots and pans while not too far away, Calcifer glared moodily at the intruders in his hearth. Howl was nowhere to be seen.

"Lettie," Sophie fairly shouted over the music that emanated from nowhere—Howl's doing, no doubt—and the general ruckus they were all making, "has someone done the mince pies yet?"

"Er…" Lettie looked around like she was gaining her bearings, "Ben had a go at it and…you know, it's simpler if I just say no."

Ben's face looked rather flushed now, and it could have passed as being caused by the heat of the cooking fires had not Calcifer chosen that exact moment to let out a sputtering bark of laughter.

"Never mind it, Ben," Sophie told him amusedly, "I'll handle them." Striding back to the kitchen, she stopped at the bottom of the staircase. "_Howl Jenkins_! You get your lazy bones out of the bathroom and down here to help us out this moment, or I swear I won't let you have anything to eat for the rest of the night! I don't care if it's Christmas, I mean it!"

She continued unabashedly on her way as though she'd only stopped to tie her shoe and not loudly threatened her husband in front of half the family.

"_Ouch_!" came bellowing from kitchen.

She hurried the last few steps to see what had happened. Martha was pressing a dishcloth to her hand. There was a red stain on it that was steadily growing larger, and the carving knife she'd been using to slice the roast lay discarded on the counter, it too dyed red on part of the blade's edge.

Michael pitched his potato peeler and a half-peeled potato onto the floor in his rush to get over to her, very nearly tripping headlong over the basket of radishes. "Martha!"

"The knife slipped!" she gasped. "I'm okay." But from the way she was gripping the rag to her cut, she didn't seem to be.

"Let me get a look," Sophie demanded, bustling over.

She unwrapped the cloth from around Martha's hand and saw a nasty slash stretching from the inside of her palm to the pinky. They could see it was deep and bleeding quite heavily without the dishrag to stem the flow. Michael hissed.

"It's all right," said Sophie, scrambling to retie the bloodied towel over her sister's hand again, tighter this time. "I can…I can—Martha, stop bleeding!"

Martha's head whipped up to look at her like she had lost her mind. "I would if I could, Sophie!" she retorted. "It's not as easy as all that."

"Oh, shut up a minute!" Sophie snapped. "I said _stop bleeding_!"

She pressed the rag more firmly onto Martha's cut to emphasize her words. After a half-minute, Sophie cautiously unwound the cloth again. Leading Martha over to the tap by her injured hand, she ran the warm water and rinsed off the bright red blood that was caking it. It came away clean, and no new blood replaced it. The skin seemed to have mended itself back together, smooth as ever.

Martha held up her hand to her face, marveling at it. "How extraordinary. Thanks, Sophie!"

"No problem," Sophie said grimly. She felt a little funny. Never before had she used her powers like that on a person instead of an object. Well, except when she broke the contract between Howl and Calcifer. She wasn't sure she should have done it, but it was all she could think to do.

"Everything all right in here?" Howl wandered into the kitchen wearing a maroon-and-copper suit and a faintly puzzled expression. "I heard a shout."

"Fine," Sophie said rather tersely. She didn't feel like explaining while there were still a thousand things to be done. "Except while you were upstairs prettying yourself up, we've been working."

"Sophie…" he began to pout.

"I don't want to hear it! Make yourself useful and help Michael with the rest of those potatoes."

Howl sulkily slunk over to the pile of half-finished tubers, rolled back his sleeves so they wouldn't get in his way, and began to gingerly shed the rinds.

Satisfied he was at least doing something, she turned back to mixing the dough for the mince pies. Occasionally, there would be a muffled snickering from behind her as she measured the ingredients, but she didn't think much of it. That is, until a white potato went sailing over her head and smashed through the kitchen window, leaving a small rounded hole in the pane.

Turning around with an expression on her face that could have sent a lion running, Sophie whipped on Howl. By his and Michael's feet were the skins of potatoes all right, but they were whole, as if the vegetables had spontaneously molted.

"You know you're not supposed to charm them peeled!" The tuber that had escaped outside and was now lying out in a bank of snow somewhere in the yard must have shot clean out of its rind as the boys behind her used magic to do their chore. "Honestly, Howl, can you not do one simple task the normal way?"

He didn't have a chance to respond, however.

"_Sophie_!" Martha whispered hoarsely.

She looked at her sister, worried that by the sound of her, she'd been startled by the shattering glass into cutting herself again. She calmed down when she saw no sign of blood, but then Martha's face sent her reeling right back into alarm.

"What is it?"

"I cut myself—"

Sophie flicked her eyes to check her hand again. No, there was definitely no blood.

"—and it's not bleeding."

Sophie started. Moving towards her sister, she took up her hand and lifted it almost under her nose. There was indeed a new gash on Martha's hand, but it was as white as the rest of her skin and blended in perfectly. There was no blood to speak of, not even a drop.

"Oh, damn," she cursed, paling. The consequences of the wording of her spell washed over her.

_Martha, stop bleeding_.

"Howl!" she called, completely forgetting her annoyance with him. "Howl, come here. Martha needs your help."

"What seems to be the problem?" he said, still morose at Sophie's temper with him, but wary at the urgency in her tone. His eyes narrowed seeing nothing obvious amiss.

Quick as she could, she told him about what she'd said to heal Martha's cut. Howl snatched Martha's hand from out of Sophie's as she spoke and peered at the skin closely, holding it level with his eyes. Martha remained mum while he did.

"Nothing by halves," he grumbled as he looked over her hand, repeating a sentiment Sophie had heard him voice once before.

"I didn't mean to," she said hotly.

Howl rejoined lightly, "You never do, Mrs. Nose."

"I botched it, I know! It's my fault!" she exclaimed in dismay. "Just put her to rights, please!"

Howl's eyes left Martha's palm to look at Sophie briefly. "I will. It's not so bad," he told her, his tone suddenly gentler. "Just calm down." His glance lingered meaningfully over her stomach before turning back to Martha.

"Michael? Can you make up the salve I did for Sophie on your own?"

"Yeah," said Michael. He'd been watching them all unsurely this whole time, but he now walked out of the kitchen confidently to set to the task he had been given.

He came back in minutes holding a decanter filled with cement-colored paste and some linen bandages.

Howl took the decanter and scrutinized it for a moment. "Good work. Okay, Martha," he looked her in the eye as he spoke, "this is going to sting a bit and you're going to bleed a little more, but I'll patch that up."

Martha nodded, tight-lipped.

That seemed to be all he needed. Holding his hand over Martha's and pressing their palms together, Howl uttered some complicated-sounding incantation that only seemed like gibberish to the others. Martha gave a small intake of breath, and Sophie could see her hand had indeed begun to bleed once more. It looked as if Howl had needed to reopen the cut that Sophie had healed before along with the second one because it was gushing more freely than the first time.

He used another dishcloth to wipe away the excess and slathered on some of the salve. The effect was almost immediate, and Sophie could see the blood was only trickling out now. Michael was standing at the ready, and when Howl finished applying the balm, Michael firmly but tenderly trussed her hand, tying the bandage with a secure knot.

Martha flexed her hand stiffly. "Thanks," she said in relief.

"Don't mention it," Howl told her from the sink where he was washing her blood from his hands.

"Martha, I'm so sorry," Sophie burst out, still looking a little pale-faced at what she'd done. "It was such a stupid thing to do."

"It's all right. Who knew that would happen? You were only trying to help."

_But I _should _know better by now_, she thought to herself.

"Come on, Sophie, we're behind as it is."

At that, Martha went right back to carving the roast like nothing ever happened, and Michael returned to his never-ending mound of potatoes. Howl remained where he was though, looking at Sophie while she stood stupefied.

"Sophie?" he called to her softly.

She didn't trust herself to look at him, let alone answer. Blast these pregnancy hormones! They were reducing her to a sodding emotional mess.

Seeing the features of her face working furiously, Howl arrested her arm and took her out by the yard door. They walked through the drifting snow and he led them into the dark flower shop.

He prompted her again. "Sophie?"

"I can't believe I did that. I should be getting better at this, not worse."

"It was a mistake. No real harm came from it."

"Only because you were around to fix it!" she replied sharply. "God only knows what would have happened to my sister if she hadn't figured out what I'd done to her right away—if you hadn't known what to do to reverse it."

Howl took a stride closer to her, but Sophie stepped backwards as he did. She didn't want to be comforted. He froze, and she could see the hurt splashed across his face even in the dim interior of the shop.

"I've said it before, it's only because you don't take the time to think things through. You act on impulse." His tone was cooler than it had been. She had definitely upset him by moving away.

As she opened her mouth to respond, he hastily added, "And don't you dare start going on about how it's because you're the eldest! You can't hide behind that pish, not with me."

Sophie snapped her mouth shut again.

The small sliver of light that reached Howl's face from the low-burning streetlamps was splotchy with shadows from the snow that tumbled across it.

"I'm going back to the castle," he said gruffly. He turned and went out into the yard, leaving her alone in the shop.

She ran a hand across her face. "Can't I do anything right today?" she muttered angrily to herself.

After trying and failing to spend a couple of minutes collecting herself, Sophie slipped out from the yard door. While she crossed the snowy enclosure, she saw that the hole in the window had been sealed up.

She let herself into the kitchen to find it empty, save for Michael, who was standing there looking at her with his half-buttoned coat slung over his shoulders.

"There you are," he said. "I was just coming to find you. Dinner's ready."

"Thanks, Michael," Sophie answered rather thickly.

He looked at her as he shrugged off his coat and hung it on the back of one of the chairs in the kitchen. "Everything all right?"

"Of course," she said, forcing a bright smile onto her face.

Michael was unconvinced, but followed her into the common room all the same.

Everyone was seated at the table with Calcifer reinstalled in the grate at the head of it. Her sisters were heaping ladlesful of all the dishes into everyone's plates, doting especially on Edmund. Sophie had told them about his parents' latest act of neglect and both of them were seriously upset by it. The Hatter sisters vowed then and there to make it up to the boy, and it looked like Martha and Lettie were off to a good start.

Ben was talking in low voice to Howl, who was on Calcifer's right. Her husband's face looked stony to whatever Wizard Suliman was saying.

"You're here, Sophie," Michael's voice said from beside her. "Next to me."

And across from Howl.

She took her seat. At first, Sophie tried to meet Howl's eye, something he resolutely avoided. After the first few minutes going on like this, she decided two things: if he wasn't going to even give her the chance to give her apology, he didn't deserve one, and she was not going to let it spoil the holidays. So instead of directing any more of her wasted attentions on Howl, she turned to the rest of the group, joining in their loud and many conversations.

Almost everyone was absolutely enjoying themselves. Almost everyone ate third and fourth helpings until they were stuffed, and told stories until they could hardly breathe for laughing.

Almost everyone, because Howl was brooding at his corner of the table and prodding at his food with his fork, scarcely saying anything at all.

"Howl—" hooted Martha after the plates were empty.

They had fished party crackers out from the broom closet and were steadily going through them in pairs. She and Michael had just opened one, and Michael beat her out. Once he saw what he'd won, he pushed the larger half of the cracker towards her. When Martha caught sight of what lay inside though, she insisted fair was only fair and jammed the lady's bonnet over around Michael's ears. She was still nearly breathless from laughing as she spoke to Howl.

"—come on, you next! Have a cracker with Sophie."

Howl crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm sure Sophie would much rather not have me anywhere near her."

He said this with so much resentment that everyone around the table was stunned into a hush. Uneasily, Martha looked across Michael to Sophie, placing the cracker into her lap and out of sight. Sophie, meanwhile, was busy glaring at Howl, who was still refusing to look at her.

Ben coughed. "Perhaps we should—?"

"Howl, I was trying to—" she started at the same time in a contained voice.

"I don't care," Howl said, cutting across them both.

Sophie was very aware of the fact that her whole family was staring at her, and it was probably this more than anything else that made her relinquish whatever chance to privately have this out with Howl there was.

Instead, she said, "You're acting like a child!"

Finally, he looked up to meet her gaze. She couldn't work out what the sudden gleam in his eye meant.

"You think I'm acting like a child? I'll show you acting like a child!"

Sophie paused. What he said didn't make sense, but for some reason, she took it as a threat. "What are you playing at?"

But it wasn't Howl she was looking at anymore. In the chair where he'd been was a small, angelic-faced child with golden hair and large violet eyes.

"Cor blimey," she heard Michael say faintly from her left.

Sophie just gaped at the child, who was now smiling sweetly at her with dimples gracing his apple-round cheeks.

"Change back," she sputtered furiously. "Change back right now!"

"But you thaid I was acting like a child, Thophie," child-Howl answered her with an adorable simper, looking like innocence personified. "Thouldn't I look the part?"

She shut her eyes. He even gave himself _a lisp_.

From opposite ends of the table, it seemed like Calcifer and Edmund were torn between being disgusted and laughing. Ben and Lettie were just looking at each other as if they didn't know where else it would be safe to direct their gazes, while Martha gawked at Howl with her mouth open. Michael was slowly shaking his head.

Opening her eyes again with the hope that she would see Howl—the real Howl—peering back at her, Sophie was disappointed to find that everything was exactly as it had been.

"Change back," she said tonelessly.

"I don't fink I thall."

Calcifer was definitely laughing. Edmund was having a better job of holding his in, but just barely.

Egged on by the fire demon's cackles, child-Howl leapt from his chair and bounded for the large cake-box Martha had brought from Cesari's. "Who wanth cake?"

"Howl," Sophie spoke with a dangerous edge to her voice, "you know that's for tomorrow. Don't touch it."

"But I want it _now_!" he whined, stamping his pretty little foot, which was clad in a buckle-adorned shoe.

It was already past midnight, and Sophie knew she just didn't have the energy to deal with this any longer; so, she did the only thing she could think to.

"Fine, you want to stay like that? Then you get everything that goes with it. You're punished! Go to your room. Upstairs, _now_!"

Her sisters turned to look at her like they were concerned for her sanity, but Sophie, struggling out of her seat and planting her hands firmly on her hips, kept her gaze fixed on child-Howl. To her surprise and relief, he actually started for the stairs and disappeared up them. But not before sticking out his tongue.

They could hear the bedroom door slam from downstairs.

Sophie stood still for a moment before making her way towards the staircase, nearly knocking her chair to the ground while she did. Before she reached the steps, she turned back to face the others sitting immobile around the table.

"I'm sorry about this," she said. "Your beds have already been made up. Michael, if you can show them to their rooms. Good night." And she stormed upstairs.

She opened their bedroom door to find child-Howl sitting primly at the edge of the bed.

"What is the matter with you?"

"I fink I should be asking _you _fat."

It was disconcerting to Sophie to be having this conversation with him when he looked and sounded like this. She buried her face in her hands in frustration.

"Please change back," came her muffled voice. There was a note of pleading in it now.

"Fine," he snapped. It was his regular voice that rang out.

She lowered her hands and saw that Howl was himself again. The sullen expression that had been on his face all night was mixed with anger of his own. She was still furious with him, but she remembered that she'd been the one to start this, even if it was unintentionally.

"Don't be mad," she suddenly heard herself say.

"I'm not mad," he told her in a hard whisper that said otherwise. "I just can't figure you out sometimes."

Sophie took a step closer to him. "I didn't mean anything by pulling back. Why are you so upset?"

"Because, Sophie, it doesn't feel particularly good to have my own wife back away when I try to get closer like I'm some kind of monster."

"Howl, I'm sorry. I was trying to tell you that before, but being the stubborn fool you are, you wouldn't give me the chance." As she spoke, she was having trouble catching his eye again. "I'm sorry," she repeated.

He huffed, "Well, why did you?"

"Because I was mad at myself for doing something so stupid! I knew you were only going to try to make me feel better and I didn't want that right away. I needed to feel bad about it for a while. It's nothing to do with you, I swear!"

Howl decided that he could meet her gaze. "All right," he said warily. As an afterthought, he added, "I'm sorry too."

Sophie snorted. The spectacle they'd made in front of everyone downstairs was just fully hitting her. "My sisters, Ben, the boys—they all think we're both barking, you know."

"Well, at least we still have Calcifer on our side," he grinned.

She laughed harder. "Calcifer's just as bad as we are, if not worse. He finds us entertaining."

"And so we are."

"Raging idiots is more like it."

Howl's face bore that particular smile he only had for Sophie. "I never said it would be a dull happily ever after, did I?"

/\/\/\/\/\

Christmas dawned with the air frosty and the snow falling thick as ever. They spent the first half of the morning exchanging presents, grabbing bites of toast in between tossing wrapping paper and ribbons over their shoulders.

Most of the food had been prepared yesterday, but a few things still had to be tended to. Sophie disappeared upstairs after the messier tasks were out of the way so she could change into something decent, and Ben offered to supervise the cooking again.

Unfortunately, he had quite a time trying to find the matches to light the fires. It finally came out that while Calcifer didn't want to be used to fry the fish or any other meal, he ate the matches in rebellion to prevent anything else from trespassing in his grate. In the end, Ben just started a fire by muttering a few words under his breath.

"Always a fuss with you, Calcifer," said Howl, shaking his head.

Calcifer seemed to choke at this. "With _me_? This coming from the man who threw a tantrum and literally went infantile?"

Ben sniggered.

"I have to go change," Howl muttered. He retreated upstairs, knowing he deserved that but feeling indignant all the same.

Letting himself into their bedroom with the intention of scouring his drawers for his silver-and-scarlet suit, he'd almost forgotten Sophie was already in there. She was standing in front of his dresser mirror wearing one of the most becoming dresses he'd ever seen her in—not that he didn't think she looked beautiful in whatever she wore, but it was a nice change from the plain old workaday dresses she insisted on wearing—and he didn't just think that because he'd gotten it for her as her Christmas gift either.

The gown was a shade of jade that he had picked out especially because he knew it would set off her blue-green eyes strikingly, just like it was doing right now. The skirt fell to her ankles in the shape of a bell and the sleeves flared slightly at the wrists. From what he could see of her face in the mirror's reflection, Sophie didn't seem to be of the same opinion.

She turned around, fiddling a bit with the top portion of her bodice as if she thought it sat too low, and saw him. "I feel too exposed in this, Howl. Not very practical for a winter dress, if you ask me."

"You're ravishing," he said simply. "And I'll take that as a 'thank you.'"

Sophie rolled her eyes, as he knew she would, but the smile that lifted the corners of her lips didn't escape his notice.

Quickly, he changed his own outfit and they headed back downstairs. At the top landing, there was an odd smell.

"Is that…?" Sophie sniffed. "Something's burning!"

She and Howl rushed down the stairs. When they reached the bottom, the air was slightly hazy with smoke, which was coming from the hearth. Not three feet away from this was Ben, who was otherwise engaged and thoroughly distracted. He and Lettie were locked in a kiss under the sprig of mistletoe dangling from the ceiling that Howl hadn't noticed before.

He heard Sophie giggle quietly at the sight. "I don't know whether to tell him that he's making the salmon inedible or not."

He pretended to consider her reservation for a moment before saying, "No, I think they have the right idea."

Grabbing her just above her waist, he swiveled her around to face him and glued himself to her. Howl was ecstatic as he felt Sophie melt into him, and he pressed himself all along her body, completely forgetting where they were.

"Oi!" came a shout. "Get a room, the lot of you!"

Sophie broke away from him, and Howl let out a sound of discontent from the back of his throat.

Calcifer was floating at the kitchen entrance staring patronizingly at the couples. "In case no one's noticed, something is burning."

"Huh?" floated from Ben, who was looking vaguely bemused. "Oh, bloody—" He dove for the pan, which effectively now held only blackish, charred lumps.

"That's what you get for using an unintelligent fire."

/\/\/\/\/\

With the exception of the chipmunks leaving the sanctuary of their tree and raiding the table for scraps, Christmas day passed at a much pleasanter and relaxed pace than the eve before had.

Filled with warm food and good cheer, everyone ate, talked, and laughed long into the night. Sophie was especially happy to see that Edmund didn't once seem despondent or like he felt out of place.

After clearing up and when everyone started heading for bed, Sophie found herself alone in the kitchen, bringing the last of the dishes to the sink. She headed towards the common room, but hadn't taken more than a few steps in before she retreated back. Michael and Martha were rather occupied just beneath the mistletoe, and she wanted to leave them with their rare moment of privacy.

In a few minutes when she thought it might be safe to check, Sophie peered around the corner and found that Martha and Michael had left the common room, but Howl was there in their stead.

"Tell me you weren't mopping or doing some other chore it's entirely too late for."

She smirked and raised an eyebrow as she approached him. "And if I was?"

"Then I'd have to sidetrack you by doing something like this."

Howl pulled her nearer as he descended on her. He kissed her slowly and deliberately, tracing her collarbone and the hollow of her throat with one hand, feeling the rhythm of her pulse throb against his fingertips. In return, Sophie teased him back by bringing herself up on tiptoe to get a better hold around his neck, where she was tangling her fingers in his hair to strain him closer.

"Again?"

Howl groaned and had to give it all he had to tear himself away from his wife's lips, which to him were just begging to continue being kissed. "My friend, you have the absolute _worst_ sense of timing."

"Funny," sparked Calcifer, "I was going to say that about your ability to gain your bearings. Or really, your lack thereof. This is the _common _room, you see."

"You're right, Calcifer," Sophie acknowledged. "Here, I'll make it up to you. Do you want me to start reading the new murder-mystery book Michael got you?"

"Yes, actually."

She went to grab the volume from the bookcase while Calcifer settled onto his fresh pile of maple logs with a contented hiss. When she went to the couch, she found Howl already burrowed in on one end. Deciding to make herself comfortable, Sophie lounged out across the rest of the couch on her side, resting her head in his lap.

"The inspector knew it was a day for trouble when a knock at the door roused him from sleep early that morning…"

Calcifer sat silent and rapt by the rise and fall of Sophie's voice as she turned the pages. Somewhere in the middle of the first chapter, she felt Howl begin to run his fingers through her loose hair in long passing strokes. Between his caresses and Calcifer's warmth, Sophie felt like she was drifting off to sleep, even if she was the one reading. Before long, Calcifer did doze off.

"…the fellow, Morgan Spate, seemed to want to say something of great import to the inspector…"

Sophie's eyes suspended over the lettering spelling out one word in particular that seemed to jump off the page at her.

"Morgan," she sounded out carefully. She liked the way it rolled off her tongue. It was a rather nice name. "Morgan…"

Howl's fingers stopped halfway through her hair as she began to echo herself.

"Howl?" Sophie turned her head slightly so she could gaze up into his face.

"Hmm?" he responded lazily.

"What do you think of the name Morgan for the baby? It would go for a boy or a girl."

Howl's expression was pensive, already a good sign. With any other name she'd suggested, he had given it the axe barely after it passed her lips, just like she had with all of his.

"Morgan," he repeated with a strange twinkle in his eye. "It's a Welshman's name too," he chuckled quietly. "Or Welshwoman's," he amended.

"Is that a yes?"

His lips slowly spread into a beam. "That's a yes. I think we've finally got it."

Howl brought the hand that was not buried in Sophie's tresses to cover her stomach.

"Morgan Pendragon."

And this time, it actually did just seem to fit.

* * *

End Author's Notes

This was hands down the hardest chapter for me to write on so many different levels. It took forever to decide what direction to take this in, and when it finally came to me, I spent hours working everything out until I could be relatively pleased. As you've also probably noticed, this is the longest chapter of the lot and will probably remain so.

There's a very good chance that the next (and last) update won't be ready in one week. Life has been particularly stressful recently, and with everything that's going on, I don't see myself having the chapter written by next Monday, but don't give up on me. I'll do everything I can to finish and publish it two to three weeks from now.


	10. In Which Danger Strikes

Author's Notes

Here at last is the long-awaited (psh, who the hell am I kidding?) final chapter. I was surprised to look up from the last of my typing to find that this actually surpassed last chapter's page-count and word-count. I find that insane.

And then there was one…

* * *

**Chapter 10, In Which Danger Strikes**

* * *

Sophie ran as fast as her legs would carry her, her breath coming in violent gasps that hung on the frigid air.

When she thought it was safe to, she brought her gait to a less frenzied pace but didn't dare slow down to less than a sprint. Glancing up ahead, she saw that she'd finally come in the way of cover, and she intended to make the most of it. It had been far too open in the field of flowers, and she was far too easy to spot in the sprawling snow-cloaked meadow.

She reached the edge where a few sparse trees grew crookedly on the border of her garden and dodged behind a thick trunk that was twice the width of her body. Leaning against it as she caught her breath, she didn't notice that she wasn't alone.

"Sophie."

Sophie nearly shrieked at the unexpected voice, and her head whipped around to find from whom it had come.

"Easy, easy! It's only me."

"Michael, there you are! Have they spotted you here?"

He shifted his footing and looked over her shoulder restlessly as he answered, "No, but it's only a matter of time. They know we've got nowhere else to run."

She nodded grimly, her head humming with plans of what to do next.

The two of them didn't talk for a minute. There was no sound except the occasional patter of snow tumbling from tree branches onto the frozen ground, and Michael blowing on his gloved hands to warm them.

He broke the silence. "I think I can make a go of it if I try to circle around from behind the hillocks. It's the only defense we've got."

Sophie shook her head. "The valley comes up short and you'll more likely than not be on level ground with the rest of the field before you slip past them."

"Still, it's our best option," Michael insisted.

They went quiet again, trying to work out if there was some alternative they'd overlooked.

"You haven't seen Calcifer, have you?" Sophie asked abruptly, hoping that with any luck the fire demon would be near.

"No."

She scowled. "It figures. The one moment we could use him…"

"That does it, I'm going out from the valley," Michael determined. "You stay here and hold down this place in case we need cover for later."

She didn't want him to go, but at the same time, she knew there was nothing for it. "Be on your guard."

He nodded once and was gone.

Alone again, every noise made Sophie believe someone was approaching. She was beginning to wonder if she should make a run for it after him when two things happened in quick succession. The first was that a faint holler pierced the air—they'd gotten Michael. She had barely a fraction of a second to dwell on that, however, because almost immediately after, the crunch of ice underfoot rang out and warned her that there was someone indeed closing in on her.

"Don't find me," she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut as she hugged closer to the trunk like she could disappear into the bark if she tried hard enough. Her fingers were almost numb with how tightly she was clenching her cloak around her; she'd be betrayed if the wind caught any part of it and caused it to flutter in the wind beyond the hiding place offered by the tree. "You don't see me. Don't find me, don't find me."

But she knew she had very little chance of her spell working. They were entirely too close for anything she said to take hold in time, and if anything, her murmuring was just letting them know exactly where to find her.

Suddenly, Sophie was knocked flat on her back, but the impact of the fall was cushioned as she landed on a bank of fresh snow. She opened her eyes and looked into the face of her assailant, who was pinning her in place with the whole of their body.

"You put up an admirable fight, but you had to know it would end this way."

"Mighty full of ourselves, aren't we?" Sophie scoffed, unwilling to admit defeat just yet.

"No more than usual," was the taunting reply she received.

All at once, she found herself being rather forcefully smothered as her assailant greedily mashed their mouths together, her lips almost certainly bruising.

Far from shrinking away and squirming uselessly, she condoned this brazen exploitation so that she could use the situation to her utmost advantage. One of her arms was still free to move, and deftly, she seized a fistful of snow and thrust it into her assailant's face.

"Agh!"

Hastily, he rolled off from on top of her and wiped at his face.

"_Sophie_! You cheated!"

Sophie scrambled to regain her feet and get out of reach while he was still trying to rub the snow from his eyes, laughing the entire time. "Did not. It's your own fault for gloating instead of doing the actual deed."

Rid of the cold slush at last, Howl looked up at her with a distinct pout already shaping his expression. "You tricked me."

"If that's what you consider tricky, you're an even bigger imbecile than I ever imagined."

Sophie and Howl glanced upwards to see Calcifer hovering up near the higher boughs of the trees, a point from which he had a bird's-eye view of everything.

"A fine help you were!" Howl shouted up at the fire demon crossly.

Calcifer drifted down and his spindly, flaming arms poked out as if to shrug. "I double-crossed you. Sophie promised not to cook on me for a week if I pretended to be on your side."

Sophie grinned. "You outnumbered us if you had him _and_ Edmund on your team. I knew if I persuaded Calcifer go rogue, we at least had a fair shot."

Howl picked himself up off the ground and brushed the snow from his trousers. "Strictly speaking, we were evenly matched," he contended, pointing to her stomach.

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, by all means, count Morgan."

He opened his mouth to retort with something else nonsensical, no doubt, but Michael and Edmund came running into the thicket just then. Both of them were covered head to toe in a layer of snow as if they had resorted to wrestling instead of lobbing snowballs.

"Well? Who won?"

Howl coughed.

"Howl lost spectacularly after the git got a bit too cocky," Calcifer merrily announced.

"What!" Edmund cried in exasperation amidst Michael's cheers. "Howl, I thought you said you could handle her? I knew I should've taken care of Sophie while you went after Michael!"

Sophie gave a wicked grin as Howl sheepishly dug the toe of his boot into some snow.

Always raring to play devil's advocate, Calcifer began, "Oh, you don't know the half of it. Just wait until you hear _how_ he lost to her…"

/\/\/\/\/\

Howl pored over the stacks of parchment that were spread across his workbench, an undertaking he had put off longer than he cared to admit. He'd been at it for hours now, scratching his chin with the quill while he tried to decipher what certain symbols meant and scrawling hasty—and therefore barely legible—notes in the margins when he finally worked them out.

All in all, he was thoroughly sick of Belshaw's Theory of Multiuniverse Coalescence. It also didn't help that his one source of light kept fading now and again while he was in midsentence.

"Calcifer, will you cut that out!"

Blearily, Calcifer cracked open one of his drooping eyelids and eyed Howl distastefully from the hearth. "I will not. That's no way to talk to me when I'm staying here helping you—with no benefit to me, might I add."

"Hold on while I break out the violins," Howl rejoined dryly.

"Please, you couldn't even strum a single tune on Suliman's guitar after all that time dragging it up and down the countryside. I shudder to think what torture you'd inflict if someone were to actually hand you a violin."

"Has there ever been a bigger whiner than you?"

"Yes," Calcifer frizzled heatedly, "and I'm looking at him."

More to avoid bickering further than to be conscientious of his clothing, Howl plucked at his sleeves to distance them from the inkwell but achieved the very thing he'd been trying to avoid in doing so; his ink-stained hands left black smudges on the cuffs. Practically scowling with irritation, he tried to turn back to the unending harangue of Belshaw's view on the complexities of dimensional manipulation, but got past no more than three paragraphs before he gave up.

"Enough of this old codger," he declared to the room at large and flipped the book shut with a resounding smack. "I'm going to bed."

Calcifer didn't even bother trying to restrain his contempt. "Finally!" He reduced himself to no more than a low-burning flicker that glowed ruddy under the logs.

Since he was left in almost total darkness, Howl fumbled his way up the stairs, feeling downright cantankerous all the way. He knew very well that he was being unreasonable, but he couldn't help it.

Earlier that evening, he'd been at Ben's house, once again trying to find out who or what had brought about that damned wind, only to fail. Again.

It had been eight months. Eight months of worthless searching, of being utterly clueless about where the danger lay, because if there was one thing Howl was certain of, it was that there was indeed a danger looming, indefinable but no less real for it. He could feel it in his very bones, in the way the breeze would crackle with magical energy every now and again when it was blowing from the Waste at just the right angle.

All this time, he'd been pretending that the mystery of it was not troubling, but just a mildly curious puzzle that would unravel itself in due course, and, my, wouldn't it be interesting to discover what it meant? In fact, if he was being absolutely honest with himself—a circumstance which he came to begrudge even in the confines of his own mind—it was driving him mad. The whole thing bothered him much more than he was letting on to anyone: Ben, Calcifer, Sophie.

Howl was the first to own that he was a first-rate coward, but he had come to find that the waiting, the idea that he was going about day-to-day business as if he didn't know something out of the ordinary was just on the horizon, was worse than facing the thing itself. That he could not determine what was coming or when it would happen only petrified him all the more.

He reached their bedroom door, ready to crumple onto their bed and succumb to the sleep that would numb his whirring mind.

The room was lit by only a few candles on the bedside table. Sophie, in her nightgown, was perched on a low stool before his mirror and attempting to reach around to take down her hair. It was scarcely a week until her due date, and everything she did lately seemed to make her uncomfortable. Even now she seemed to be having some difficulty, and was so involved with trying to disentangle it that she hadn't heard him come in.

Howl leaned in the doorframe and folded his arms across his chest, watching her for a moment. Sophie was the real reason he was able to keep himself from shutting down. She was holding him together when he could feel himself on the verge of breaking apart. Take him for a sentimental fool, but there it was.

She was also why he was so afraid.

Sophie was making little frustrated noises as she continued to tug impatiently at strands of her hair, half of the mass obscuring her eyes. He quietly crept up behind her and started unpinning her hair himself, going about it with a hand that was steady with practice. Her bent head jerked up as his fingers plunged themselves into her hair.

She met his reflection's gaze and gave him grateful quirk of her lips. "Thank you."

Howl nodded, but didn't say anything as he went on seeking pins. He could feel her eyes studying him in the mirror.

"Is something the matter?" Without looking at her, he knew her eyes were narrowed.

"No, nothing."

"Liar."

"So they say," he remarked, straight-faced.

She moved out from underneath his hands to face him and deliver a look that was purely Sophie. Granted, her movements were encumbered a bit, not the usual whip-quick turnabout she did to catch him in the act of doing something she didn't approve of, but the intention and meaning of it was unmistakable. "Stop slithering-out and answer me."

"I have: nothing is the matter." _Yet_, he was powerless to stop himself from adding in his head.

She let out a tutting noise to convey her disbelief, but didn't say another word. The look on her face seemed to say _fine, but I'll find out sooner or later_, before she turned back to grab her brush and tackle the knots in her red-gold tresses.

While she did, Howl changed into his own nightclothes and lay on the bed, staring at the quivering shadows the candlelight cast on the ceiling.

Sophie joined him, and he rolled onto his side to face her. He stayed there like that for a long while, motionless, just drinking in the sight of her as if to memorize every detail of the way she looked right now. Her fiery hair tumbling in casual, unintended beauty around her face. Her complexion glowing with that radiance the pregnancy had given her. Her eyes dark with faint concern over his odd behavior and something else.

She leaned forward, banishing the little space that was left between them, and joined their lips.

Between the two of them, Howl was most certainly the romantic, but whenever Sophie indulged her passionate side, it just about undid him. Her kiss was tender, almost like she believed she would hurt him if she didn't keep her touch feather-light. He didn't waste any time in showing her that she was wrong. Applying a small amount of pressure against her shoulder, he brought Sophie onto her back, following her so as not to break their connection, but holding his weight just far enough away from her so that they didn't crush her stomach between them.

To his distress, she pulled away very slightly. Then he felt her start to shower small, soft kisses all over his face and under his jaw, which drove him wild with impatience, causing him to writhe in torment. Howl recaptured her mouth and his kisses became more urgent. He could feel her body yielding in his hands. Sophie's arms stole out and twined themselves under his, palms open and pressing into his shoulder-blades as if to push him down more closely to her. His breath hitched in his throat, and he could hear her own breathing coming faster and more ragged.

Garbled outcries rang out in the distance.

The noise startled Howl and Sophie apart, and he keenly felt that the loss of contact had cost him greatly.

"What was that?" Sophie asked as she struggled to get up, completely shaken from her hazy warmness of a moment ago.

"I don't know." He hoped he was doing a better job of hiding his jitters from Sophie than he was at quelling them. The revival of his paranoia when he least expected it was making his heart pound for altogether different reasons than it had been.

"Stay here," he told her firmly, and snatching his robe from where he'd thrown it over the trunk at the foot of the bed, he whisked downstairs.

Calcifer was burning brightly in his grate when Howl reached downstairs, shoving his arm through his sleeve. "Whatever it is, it's coming from Kingsbury," he immediately told the disheveled wizard and flew out to join him.

The portal to the capital was already set, and Howl wrenched open the door.

People were clamoring in the streets, but not in fear, not in pandemonium. No, they were cheering, laughing, dancing even, as if they had decided to celebrate May Day two months early, and in the stark of night. Howl watched as two giggling children holding hands spun round and round while a middle-aged woman hung out of her second-story window banging a pot with a wooden spoon.

He exchanged an incredulous look with the fire demon.

"Has the whole town gone mad?" Calcifer marveled aloud.

"You there!" Howl shouted at a man who went ambling precariously past just then, and he sprang off the doorstep to speak with him.

The man stopped short and turned to face him with a beery grin on his face. "Oh 'lo, Wizard Pendragon! It's all in good part tha—_hic_—thanks to you, this is!" The man nodded sagely as if he had just imparted the greatest of wisdom. It might've been more convincing had he not slurred so heavily. Or stank so strongly of ale.

"But what do you mean? What's happened?"

The man squinted at Howl as though _he_ had been the one drinking. "Hav'n't ya heard? Ingary won the war! The heart-fainted Strangians were forced to retre…retrea…surrender. Long live Ingary!"

He bellowed the last part, and it was taken up by all those who happened to be in the vicinity. The cry carried up the main road from one crowd to the next.

Howl couldn't believe it. The war was over. He stood as though he'd been turned to stone as the man stumbled away from him to join the swelling throng. After a while, he turned to climb back up the few steps to the castle and saw Sophie, fully clothed, standing in the door's open maw with Calcifer hovering just behind her.

"It's over?" said Sophie, looking just as shocked as he felt.

Howl took her hand and led them back inside.

Michael and Edmund came bolting down the stairs together.

Edmund, hair tousled, looked from Howl to Sophie to Calcifer. "What's going on?" he asked.

"War's over," the fire demon replied. "The people are celebrating."

"Really?" Michael exclaimed. Directing himself to Howl, he said, "Can I go out? I'm going to see Martha!" Not waiting for a reply, he tossed on a pair of boots and a cloak over his pyjamas and made for the door before turning back. "Come on, Edmund! You too."

Edmund's face brightened and he gave a quick look over to Sophie and Howl. As neither one of them protested, he scurried over to the closet to drag on a cloak and shoes of his own. Their odd attire complete—though from the little Howl had seen, it was standard garb tonight—they disappeared through the front door.

It was silent a minute before Calcifer announced, "I'm going back to bed. If you want your way lit for upstairs, I'll wait."

Like they were still playing some bizarre version of chains, Howl guided Sophie by the hand back up to their bedroom. Only when he pulled them inside did he let go of her to shut the door behind them.

Turning back into the room, he had a glimpse of Sophie coming towards him before she flung her arms about his neck and pressed herself into his chest. Howl wrapped his arms around her as well. It was a simple enough action, but even without words spoken between them, it suddenly dawned on him that Sophie too had been more fretful than she'd been letting on these past few months.

But for him.

He always knew to some extent that she had been disturbed to find him gone from bed before the crack of dawn some days or slouched at his workbench in mid-spell others, but never until this moment had he realized how much. Now, she didn't even pretend to hide just how relieved she was on his behalf.

Howl took her by the shoulders and drew her away, but just barely. In the next second, he ducked his head and covered her lips with his. When she fervently responded to him, he could swear the intense love he had for his wife consuming him was like an inferno, obliterating everything else in existence.

/\/\/\/\/\

_Knock knock knock knock knock._

Sophie's head shot up from her pillow.

In her sleep-dazed confusion, it took her many seconds to realize that the insistent hammering she was hearing was coming from the front door. Beside her, Howl was still deeply asleep, snoring lightly. She glanced over at the clock on the bedside table to see the time. It was six o' clock, still quite early. A sense of foreboding crept over her while the knocking continued, and as she threw off the covers, she began to have all sorts of sinister visions swim through her mind.

_Knock knock knock knock knock._

Who could it possibly be at this hour? Hadn't the boys gotten in all right last night? Was Martha in trouble? Did something happen with Lettie in her condition?

By the time she reached the ground floor, Sophie had agitated herself so much with her imaginings that she wasted no time with Calcifer's incensed ravings and directly threw open the front door.

Two soldiers in all their crisp, officious livery stood on the Kingsbury doorstep. They were both rather young, about her own age, but the uniforms they wore made them look older somehow, more experienced. Sophie was suddenly very aware that she'd come flying downstairs without throwing on so much as a shawl and was facing these strange men in nothing but her nightgown.

Blushing furiously, but drawing herself up to her full height—which didn't amount to much in comparison to her present company—she inquired with all the decorum she could muster, "Can I help you?"

"Mrs. Pendragon?" the fair-haired soldier on the left countered her question with his own in a nasally voice.

"Yes."

"I have a message here from His Highness for Wizard Pendragon." He held out a missive bearing the seal of the Royal Palace, and Sophie reached out to take it. "Please see to it that this reaches his hands immediately."

"I—" but before she could so much as ask what this was about, the soldiers had presented her with their backs and were marching away down the stairs and into the still unpopulated street. "Hmph," was the annoyed sound that escaped her.

As Sophie pushed the door closed, Calcifer snarled after them, "And next time, come back at a more decent hour or I'll roast both your heads and have them for afternoon tea!"

She raised an eyebrow in his direction.

Calcifer didn't waver. "_They_ don't know that I wouldn't actually do it. Neither do you for that matter." He showed her his pointy teeth in an evil grin and promptly rolled under a half-burned log to get back to sleep.

"Sophie?"

Howl was standing at the foot of the stairs with his hand on the banister, his expression sleepy and bemused.

She handed him the letter. "This came for you. It's from the King, though what he could want now…" She knew she sounded childish, but she didn't care.

Looking even more mystified than before, he took it from her and broke the seal, his eyes darting back and forth across the parchment swiftly as he took in its contents.

"I'm to report to the palace in an hour," he told her. He scanned the letter again. "..._ matter of urgency_," he read, running his fingers distractedly through his hair. "What the devil is there to be a matter of urgency now?"

Sophie took the letter back from Howl, wanting to read it for herself.

_His Most Excellent Royal Wizard Pendragon,_

_It is hoped that news of the victory over Strangia has reached you by now, but in anticipation that it has not, it is a pleasure to announce with immense satisfaction the triumph of Ingary and High Norland in the war. Your services were indispensible during this time when your country required aid. _

_By command of the King of Ingary, your presence is requested in regards to a most pressing matter of urgency. We duly expect your arrival in the Chamber of Delegation at the stroke of seven so that you may provide your assistance in this situation._

_His Highness the King of Ingary _

_Long Live His Majesty _

For all its flowery language, Howl was once again being summoned by the King like a dog, expected to drop everything and obey orders.

"The nerve," Sophie glared at the letter. "I'll wring that man's neck I will, king or not…"

She heard Howl laugh lightly at her outburst and her eyes snapped to his face. "I'm coming with you. I'm in a mind to scold His Majesty for being so—so—"

"King-like?" he suggested.

"I'm coming," she repeated, passing him on the stairs to go and change.

Howl came loping up after her while she walked determinedly into their bedroom.

"You'll do no such thing."

"Howl," Sophie turned from her closet with a dress in each hand, just about ready to throw a fit, "this is getting ridiculous. It can't go on like this. Someone needs to talk some sense into that man—"

"—and we'll both wind up in the stockade by the day's end if you do, I'm sure," he finished.

Sophie glowered, but he strode over to her and loosened her grip on her gowns, casting them onto the bed and replacing them with his hands.

"It's not fair," she muttered bitterly.

"And when did fairness ever have anything to do with it?"

She didn't answer him.

"Come now, things are bound to get better now that the war is over," Howl went on cheerfully. "You'll see."

"Fine," Sophie relented lowly.

She hoped he was right, but if this letter was any indication, than she didn't much have faith that things would turn out that way.

/\/\/\/\/\

There was a fierce gale blowing while Howl approached the palace, and it was coming from off the Waste, a fact which caused his shoulders to tense even more than they had been. It was like he was being toyed with, and he didn't like the feeling, not at all.

Just as he was about to mount the towering staircase, he saw a ginger head bobbing along with a quick step and headed straight for him from the other end of the lane.

"I see you received a summons as well."

Ben's craggy face was looking harassed in no uncertain terms as he started up the steps with Howl. "Lord, if you'd only seen Lettie when the messenger came. I thought she was going to box the poor bloke's ears and then come and do the same to the King." He lowered his voice as they passed close to some guards who were stationed along the way. "And believe me, that was the friendliest thing she had in mind."

Howl's lips curled into a smile at that. "Yes, the Hatters are rather bent on getting their points across in the most…demonstrative way possible."

"I take it Sophie wasn't pleased either?"

"You could say that."

In a few minutes, they had reached the top, where they were greeted by the usual footman.

"We have an appointment with the King," Ben told him.

"Indeed. Right this way, gentlemen."

This began the customary, tedious procedure of being handed off from attendant to attendant through the vast maze of palace rooms and yet more staircases until they finally reached the Chamber of Delegation.

"The Royal Wizards Suliman and Pendragon, Your Majesty," proclaimed the final man in the sequence of ushers as he admitted them into the room.

Howl and Ben briskly entered and each made a small bow.

The King was standing with his hands clasped behind his back while he gazed out a window on one end of the cavernous chamber. He took another moment before receiving his callers.

When the King did turn to face them, Howl could see that he was looking very old and very tired, with purplish half-circles under his eyes. He felt the smallest twinge of guilt for being so pitiless.

"Right on time," the King intoned austerely as he eyed them both. "Take a seat."

They advanced into the room and headed for the lavish desk where two high-backed chairs sat while the King settled heavily into a rather more regal-looking armchair on the opposite side.

"I'll get straight to the point as there really is no time to waste," the King began curtly, his fingers forming a steeple before him. "My brother is missing—"

"What?" Ben interrupted stupidly before he could stop himself. "Er, forgive me, Your Majesty."

The King inclined his head slightly to show he'd taken no offense and continued, "Before I go on, explanations are in order. Though our victory in Strangia was absolute, there can be no guarantee that the citizens of that nation will take kindly to a new regime coming in, not when the former one was so beloved. A rebel uprising is the last thing I need on my hands," his face visibly darkened for a moment. "To make the transition of power proceed more smoothly, we have come to an arrangement. Prince Justin is to marry the woman who was to be the next in line to their throne, Princess Beatrice."

Howl watched from the corner of his eye as Ben's mouth pursed into a severe-looking line. It was clear that he wished to object on behalf of his friend, the prince, about these tactics, but didn't quite dare.

As if he sensed a change in the atmosphere of his audience, the King carefully articulated what he had to say next. "Prince Justin himself agreed that this is the best course of action to impose the treaty once Strangia is officially part of the kingdom." His words held an impression of finality that forbade them once and for all from even considering to question his authority on the matter.

"Three weeks ago, Princess Beatrice went missing. At first we believed she had gone into hiding to avoid the marriage, but that was ruled out as a possibility. Some signs of a struggle now lead us to believe that she was kidnapped. We have it on good information that it was not an act of mutiny from the Strangians, but something else altogether."

Something in the manner in which the King pronounced that last sentence left Howl feeling distinctly, and somehow familiarly, chilled to his marrow.

"So Prince Justin went after her?"

"Precisely," nodded the King. "I've been keeping regular correspondence with him the entire time to stay briefed on his progress, but it's been a week since I heard from him last. It was only last night that I was told he set out on a scouting mission through the Strangian forest without his guard detail around that same time and has not returned since."

It occurred to Howl that perhaps the King should consider putting his brother on a leash. After all, he did seem to have quite a flair for getting himself into trouble. Then again, when it came down to it, Sophie had that very same penchant. He imagined her reaction to being magically tethered to the confines of the castle…

"That's not all," the King resumed with a worn out sigh. "Princess Beatrice's abduction is not an isolated incident. Princesses from kingdoms everywhere are being kidnapped; I've had it from the former king of Strangia himself. No ransoms have been issued, no demands stipulated for their return. They are simply taken." It was here that Ben and Howl could see that the man sitting before them was indeed looking strained. "Because of this, I have reason to fear for my daughter."

"Surely Princess Valeria is too young to be at risk," Howl hesitantly asserted. "If the abductor hasn't sought payment for their release…" He hedged on plainly wording what other motives someone could have for stealing away women alone from the powerful families of the world.

"That is what I need you to find out. You have the ability to look into the future, to foresee what will happen. I want to know what I am protecting my child from if she requires it."

"I'll do what I can, Your Majesty."

"See that you do," the King said almost fiercely. "As for you, Suliman, I'd like you to save my men some legwork and determine where Prince Justin has gotten himself to."

"Of course."

The King pushed himself up and stood, forcing Howl and Ben to do the same. "I'm counting on you both."

They each gave another bow and took their leave. It wasn't until they were rid of the prying eyes and ears of the palace and out in the streets of the capital that were just beginning to bustle with life that Ben considered it safe to speak again.

"I can't believe Justin is actually going to go through with it," he muttered under his breath.

"What, marriage?" asked Howl.

"Marriage for political tactic. He was less than thrilled when he told me at my wedding that he and his brother were discussing it as a possibility, but he'd spoken like it was a last resort. I'd no idea he would actually go against his own will. I feel sorry for him."

"Not everyone is as lucky as we've been," Howl pointed out, "but there's nothing we can do about it. There are other things at stake here. Finding the prince, for starters."

"And stolen princesses." Ben grunted. "Justin was asking for it, going off on his own in Strangia; the man's an idiot. But kidnapped daughters of affluent men…. Maybe tomorrow we should meet up to wrap our heads around everything in case we can't manage on our own."

Howl nodded. "I think that would be wise."

"Right then. Good luck with your end."

"And to you with yours."

And with that, they diverged to go their separate ways home.

/\/\/\/\/\

Back at the moving castle, Sophie sat on the common room's couch darning a frayed hem on Howl's emerald-and-gray suit.

Calcifer was nestled in his hearth while Edmund and Michael sat puzzling out some sort of intricate diagram at the workbench. They were together in a rare, cozy sort of quiet companionship, absorbed in their own goings-on.

Sophie gave a sudden wince as the baby sent a particularly forceful kick into her ribs, almost as if to remind her that they were not to be ignored. "I know you're in there," she said irritably, rubbing her stomach, "I haven't forgotten." In an affectionate undertone, she added, "I can already tell you're going to be a little attention-seeker like your father, aren't you?"

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

She looked up. Howl was standing in the open doorway, framed by the snow.

"Because it is," Calcifer deadpanned.

Sparing Calcifer a dirty look, he strolled over to the couch. Sophie could feel the heat radiating off her cheeks while the remark she'd intended to go unheard was being openly thrashed out.

Howl sat beside her, gently pressed his palm at the spot he'd seen her massage a moment ago, and considered the tiny, persistent kicks. "I'll have you know," he said at length, "that my little rugby player is brushing up on their upfield punts," which made Sophie snort.

Then, in a dropped voice that was meant for her alone, "Take it easy on your mother in there, little one."

For some reason, this sent a tingle all through Sophie. In an attempt to compose herself and distract Howl from the effect he was having on her, she asked, "So what did the King have to say?"

It was like a light had switched off in Howl's eyes. "Oh, the usual nonsense. I should probably get on that." He got to his feet quickly, as if trying to put enough space between them to avoid having to say something more straightforward—which, knowing Howl, was all too likely.

The thing was, he didn't give her the chance to corner him for a confession. He was nipping around the common room, gathering an assortment of items for what looked to be a divining spell. With chalk in hand, Howl nimbly sketched a pentagram in the center of the floor and filled each point with squiggles that seemed erratic but she knew were being carefully calculated. When he started positioning crystals to surround the chalk-marks, Sophie returned to her darning, but Calcifer gravitated towards him to look on with interest.

The wording of his conjuring was almost soothing, and as he spoke, a curious sort of calm stole over her.

Only to be broken in the most jarring way possible.

With no warning, Howl gave a yell and went staggering from his place in the center of the pentagram. Sophie's head jolted up to look at him, and she saw Michael and Edmund do the same.

"_O uffern,_" Howl whispered, standing rigid where he'd managed to catch himself. His face had gone deathly pale, making his hair seem even more unnaturally bright than was ordinary.

"Howl?" Sophie exerted herself to get upright and go to him.

He didn't answer, didn't even seem to hear her. "_Cyfrgolli, cyfrgolli, cyfrgolli!_" his voice rose in volume with every repetition.

_Is that Welsh_? her racing mind paused to question. "Howl, what is it?" she said tensely. He was beginning to scare her. "_Howl_."

Then, as though time started back up again, Howl lurched forward in such a way that for a moment Sophie was afraid he was collapsing, but no, he was careening full-tilt towards the bookcase. His apprentices dove out of the way from his hell-bent course.

Howl started yanking book after book down to him, only to toss them heedlessly onto the floor after a quick glance told him they weren't what he was searching for.

Halfway through upturning their little library, he seemed to have been deserted by whatever was possessing him to do it and doubled-back to the workbench. As Howl mixed powders and plant extracts, he flicked his wrist to summon something, and a blank scroll of parchment and a ready-inked quill came scudding to meet him. He wrote with his right hand and continued blending potion ingredients with his left, stopping one every now and again to concentrate more intently on the other.

Sophie could feel Michael and Edmund's eyes on her, waiting for her to do something, but what was she to do?

Walking very carefully as though she was approaching some savage creature, she touched her husband's shoulder. "Howl?"

Physical contact accomplished what her voice alone could not, and Howl's face snapped up. But at the sight of her, Sophie saw his pupils dilate in horror as some revelation still not understood by her crashed over him with all the force of an avalanche. His eyes darted past her to the boys, then to Calcifer, looking at them all as if for the first time.

"Edmund, I want you to pack your things and return to stay with your parents for a while. Take Michael with you, and if you can't," he turned to address Michael directly, "see if Martha can put you up somewhere."

At first, Edmund's eyebrows knit together in an injured sort of way because he thought he was being let go. When he heard Michael was being told the same thing, hurt warped back into utter confusion.

"What is going on?" Sophie demanded more emphatically.

"I said get packing!" Howl barked at his apprentices, neither of whom had yet to move.

They looked at Sophie briefly as if hoping she would stop them, but when she didn't, they went upstairs.

"Calcifer, I need you to help me put up wards, strong ones, the strongest we've got." Then, more to himself than anyone, he muttered, "It's not enough, but maybe if I can buy some time…"

"Howl, I will, you know I will, but—"

The wizard brought the fire demon's sentence short as he turned back to the workbench. In one dexterous move, he folded the sheet of paper he'd written on in half and dusted both sides with the concoction he prepared. He crumpled the lot into his fist and rumbled something. Smoke seeped out from between his clenched fingers. When he opened his hand, Sophie could see that the paper had turned to ash. Howl lifted it to his face and blew on the burnt scraps, sending them scattering into the air where they vanished in little wisps of flame.

It was at this point that Sophie lost it.

"Look at me!" she cried at Howl's back, willing every word she spoke to force him to comply.

Whether it was the effect of her magic or the anguish in her voice that did it she couldn't be sure, but slowly, he turned, fixing her with an unreadable gaze.

"What's happening?"

There was no way for him to slither out, not this time. He drew a shaky breath. "The King asked me to go to him this morning because there's been a string of princess kidnappings. He wanted me to use a divining spell to see whether Princess Valeria is in danger, and from what I saw, she most certainly is. That message I've just sent was a warning for the King."

"All right," Sophie said as if speaking with a child, "but explain to me why you're turning out Michael and Edmund."

Howl looked pained, and if possible, his agitation seemed to increase tenfold. "Because I saw something else."

She took a step closer to him so as not to miss a single word.

"It's coming for us first. It's coming for the castle _now_."

It was as if her heart had gone and lodged itself in her throat. She made herself speak around it. "What is?"

"I don't know! A monstrous, winged _thing_. A being more powerful than anything I've ever felt."

He retreated to the bookcase. So that was what he was looking for as he frantically flipped the pages.

Meanwhile, Sophie was rooted to the spot in shock, but where her limbs were deficient, her mind was not. For every dozen half-thoughts that shot by, one was coherent. This was what that wind was trying to caution them of all those months ago. How much time did they have? Could Calcifer defend the castle? Howl didn't seem to think so. It was for the best that the boys went elsewhere until this all blew over.

Calcifer was nodding gravely to something Howl was telling him when Sophie finally regained her sense of hearing. "…a ward at every portal, I don't know where it's coming from…"

"What can I do?"

The pair turned to look at her.

"Nothing," said Howl at once. "Calcifer and I can handle it."

Sophie felt her temper flaring, and she stalked over to him with burning eyes. "Do you really expect me to stand here and do nothing?"

"Calm down," he told her.

"_Me_ calm down?" she spluttered. "Have you seen yourself?"

Howl shouted back, gesturing to her heavily protruding abdomen angrily. "I needn't be concerned about the things _you_ ought to be!"

Her mouth opened to retort, but just as she was about to, Michael and Edmund came jostling down the stairs with a luggage apiece and looking more subdued than ever.

Howl took in the sight of his apprentices staring dolefully at him, and perhaps that was what made him speak more kindly to them than he had up until this point. "All right, Michael, Edmund. Watch yourselves and each other for the time being, do you understand? And keep working on those hex-reversals. I'll see you soon."

"So long, boys," called Calcifer, a bit sadly.

When Sophie walked with Edmund and Michael to the door, she surprised herself with her sudden reluctance to see them go, and without knowing what she was about, pulled each of the boys into a rough embrace.

As Michael returned her unexpected hug, he took the chance to mumble in her ear, "Sophie, _what_ is going on?"

"I hardly know myself," she answered softly. "Now go on, both of you."

She tugged away, shepherding them outside. As Edmund and Michael departed down Kingsbury's icy main road, they kept glancing over their shoulders back at Sophie, who watched them go until they disappeared around a corner.

Before she went inside, she anxiously scanned the skies, half-expecting to see some horrible beast swooping down upon her. But the day couldn't have been more outwardly tranquil, with watery light from the setting sun slanting between the houses of the capital. Still, now she could feel it, the presence of something not quite right, something menacing, making her skin crawl. A high wind was blowing off the Waste accompanied by an eerie whistling.

"That should do it," Calcifer was conveying back in the common room.

Howl made a noncommittal noise, considering Sophie as she walked back towards them. There was a loaded silence among the three of them for a moment.

"Sophie, I need you to leave."

All she could do was stare at him. She couldn't have heard him right. "What?"

"It's not safe here. Go to Wales," he continued like she hadn't said anything, "to my sister's family. Make up a reason why you have to stay there without me and don't come back to Ingary. I'll come for you as soon as I can."

Sophie's mouth fell open. "You must be _joking_!"

But he clearly wasn't. His face was set in the same expression he had whenever he dug his heels in for one of their rows. And suddenly, the opposite side of the coin that was Howl's overprotective nature turned on her. It was no longer welcome or endearing, but unnerving, crazed even.

He couldn't be serious.

Even as she thought that, a well-known clicking met her ear. She turned her head and could see that the portal knob had rotated black-down, the door's hinges creaking as it opened to reveal an inky blackness just beyond. One look back at Howl, a muscle in his jaw jumping, told her he was prepared to thrust her through it if he had to.

But Sophie's head was exceptionally clear. She was ready for him.

"Door!" she said firmly, "You shut this instant!" which it did accordingly.

"For God's sake, be reasonable, Sophie!"

"If you want me out of it, then cast something to make me go unnoticed," she frenziedly invented.

"It won't do any good, it'll see right through the illusion. You have to go, it's the only way."

"No."

"Sophie," Howl thundered, "don't be selfish! There's more at stake here than your own life. Think of Morgan! You know I'm right, you're just too damn stubborn to admit it."

Sophie was livid. How dare he put that on her? A choice between her husband and her unborn child was no choice at all, only a cruel game life was forcing her to play, designed so that the only possible outcome was for her to lose. "Confound it, Howl! I won't abandon you! This is a fine time for you to get all courageous," she spat.

Howl looked as if he might break something in frustration. "It's not courage!" he roared. "I'm terrified, but most of all for what this thing will do to you and the baby if it gets a hold of you. Don't do this! If I die, it doesn't matter, but you—"

He was cut off unceremoniously as Sophie bridged the small gap between them in two quick strides, quicker than anything she'd done this late in her pregnancy, and clamped her hand over his mouth.

"Shut up!" she whispered hysterically. "Don't you _dare_ say that to me, you…you…you selfish…you heartless…!" To her shame, she felt the unbidden prick of tears rise behind her eyes.

Howl curled his fingers around the hand at his face and lowered them without letting go, looking at her deadly seriously. "There wasn't anything I would've died for before you—"

Sophie slapped him across the face. Hard. Howl's head went jerking to the side from the force of her blow.

"_Sophie!_" blurted Calcifer.

She was breathing heavily as if she had run for miles, her chest heaving.

Slowly, he turned back to face her again, his eyes wretched. "Listen to me." His sudden gentleness frightened her more than when he was in a towering rage, much more. "I know Megan has never been a friend to you, but if I know my sister, she won't turn you away. It won't be for long…" He was grasping at straws, saying anything true or untrue that came into his head.

"I'm not leaving." She was practically trembling with defiance.

Howl growled, the sound of a man at his wit's end.

Before he could say another word to try and convince her, a white-hot light blinded them both, causing Howl and Sophie to shy away, their upraised hands too late to shield their already dazzled eyes.

It was Calcifer, blazing in all his demonic glory and looking rather intimidating for it. "It's broken through the wards!" he bellowed agonizingly. "It's coming!"

A sound that seemed to make heaven and earth vibrate around them rent the air. The portal wheel in the lintel spun so fast that all four colors blurred together, and the front door burst open. The field of flowers, then Market Chipping, then Kingsbury, and finally the black mist that divided their world from Wales went whirling in and out of existence at such a nauseating pace that they finally seemed to merge.

Howl instinctively threw himself onto Sophie. She clung to him in terror and thought she was shaking until she realized it was him.

Then everything went black.

It was thicker than regular darkness somehow. It felt like a void and suffocating at once, and it permeated every last part of the room. Sophie couldn't even see Calcifer's light, only a moment ago intense as the sun itself and now completely extinguished.

She could feel Howl's mouth pressed into her hair as they clutched each other, not daring to stir. His lips were moving, whispering something.

"_Corff dynol,_ _drawsnewid i mewn_ _i cath._"

She could barely contemplate what he was doing when a strange stinging ran up her spine and then spread through her whole body. _Oh God_, she thought wildly, _don't be going into labor_. _Not now._

"Calcifer!" she heard Howl yell in a voice that made her turn cold. He sounded so scared. "Get out, get out, it's too powerful! We'll both be killed!"

And then she was ripped away from Howl. She reached blindly to catch hold of him again, but couldn't. She plunged headlong in some direction, not knowing what was up or down. A burst of wintry air told her she was being thrown outside, and she heard the door slamming shut behind her.

Sophie landed on her hands and knees. She turned to look back at the castle.

But it had vanished.

There was no sign of it anywhere in the swirling snow. Come to think of it, she had no idea why she was here either.

Sophie took in her surroundings. Everything seemed so giant and vague in the blizzard that was raging around her. Not too far off in the distance, she could just make out the immense outlines of rough terrain hazy against the skyline.

She was in the mountains in the northernmost part of Ingary. But how?

Trying to stand, she found she couldn't. Fearfully, she looked down as she attempted to brace herself up again only to see two paws on the ground before her. Sophie let out a gasp, but it came out sounding strange, almost strangled and trill. Darting over to a frozen puddle between the crevice of two rocks with an agility that she shouldn't have had on all fours, she peered at her reflection.

A small, black face with luminous blue eyes stared back at her.

Sophie was a cat.

Another pitiful meow escaped her. Howl must have done it so whoever had attacked the castle wouldn't sense her, that absurd fool.

Thinking of Howl made her feel very desperate. What had become of him? And Calcifer, for that matter? Had they also been flung out to opposite ends of the kingdom, or…?

She shook her head sharply. It wouldn't do to think like that. Instead, she decided to transform herself back. Willing herself to become human again, Sophie shut her eyes tightly. Her tail swished back and forth as if to mock her.

She tried again, putting every ounce of herself into motivating her body to restore itself to the proper size.

Nothing. She was stuck like this.

Sophie was regretting now more than ever how dependent she had become on verbalizing her spells, wishing to no purpose that she'd put more effort into learning how to hone the use of her magic when the power of speech failed her.

Now, however, wasn't the time to feel sorry for herself. She needed to help her family, and in order to do that, she had to begin somewhere.

So, facing away from the mountains to be sure she was heading due south, Sophie went streaking away into the night.

* * *

End Author's Notes

…_technically_, this isn't ending on a cliffhanger. If you want to find out what happens next and don't already know, get yourself a copy of _Castle in the Air_, but you knew that coming in, didn't you?

I tried to toss in a bit of Welsh in a feeble attempt to be as true to the original as possible. I hope, rather than believe, that I've used the language properly, but if anyone knows otherwise, I'd be indebted to you for pointing it out.

_O uffern – _Oh hell

_Cyfrgolli _– Damn

_Corff dynol,_ _drawsnewid i mewn_ _i_ _cath _– Human body, transform into a cat

Anyone notice the symmetry with the murder-mystery novel opening from the last chapter and the beginning of the day the moving castle was under siege? Foreshadowing and everything. Oh, the cleverness of me. Or at the very least, it balances out my lame spell wording for Howl.

It seems that Sophie has decided to occasionally possess me and make me her plaything. I find myself talking aloud to inanimate objects and people out of an earshot to persuade them to do my bidding. Is this some sort of writer's fatigue after spending so long inside of a character's head?

Please, if you've read this far, leave a review. It doesn't have to be much, but let me know what you liked or disliked about this story. I realize that I added a lot more romance than Diana Wynne Jones's writing style generally allows, so some feedback on that would be excellent. Did it get too sentimental? Was it to the point of being unrealistic? I especially would love to know how the djinn's attack portrayed here compared with how you personally imagined it. No matter how far down the road you're reading this, I'll _always_ be grateful for reviews.

That said, I want to give my absolute heartfelt thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed, especially those of you who came back time and again. Your comments mean the world to me, and I can't tell you enough how very much I appreciate each and every single one. Thank you all.


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